Checks and Balances
by Alice I
Summary: The fire Department and the hospital have a system of checks and balances to prevent mistakes, but sometimes they happen anyway.
1. Chapter 1

**Author: **Alice I

**Title: **Checks and Balances

**Betas: **The Delerium Threeman, Oughtaknowbetter

**Summary: **"Look, Roy, the fire department as well as the hospital have systems of checks and balances in place to prevent mishaps like this, but those systems aren't completely fool proof, and unfortunately this time Johnny fell through the cracks."

Roy knew that Cap was right. He didn't blame Dr. Brackett, and in his heart he didn't really blame himself. He just desperately wanted to take the whole day back to do over again.

**Checks and Balances**

**Chapter 1**

Beeep. Booonnng. Beeeeep.

More than one set of shoulders stiffened: yet another alarm. The shift began with a multi-vehicle accident and had gone downhill from there. The men of station 51 had responded to seven fire calls, and nine rescues respectively. Johnny Gage and Roy Desoto had accompanied the engine on four of their seven fire calls, and the engine had responded to three of the paramedics' nine rescues, and it was only four thirty in the afternoon.

Squad 51 was just on its way back to the station after their last call which had Johnny ranting.

"Can you believe it; being called out to rescue a cat from under the porch? These kinds of nonsense calls are starting to drive me nuts, Roy. There should be something we can do about it, I tell ya," Johnny raved.

Roy just rolled his eyes at his partner and turned his attention back to the road. He didn't disagree with the younger man, but there wasn't a whole lot they could do about it other than to report that the _'baby trapped under the house'_ was in fact a full grown cat lounging under the front porch. Roy and Captain Stanley had strongly admonished the middle aged caller that the next time she needed help with her cat she should call Animal Control rather than the fire department.

Cap and the engine had left quickly while Johnny and Roy re-stowed their equipment. As they drove down Belmont, Roy caught sight of some commotion up ahead. Johnny must have seen it too, for he stopped in mid-rant and dropped his feet from the dash. He peered at the small group of people who were gathering in front of one of the homes and pointing upward.

As they got closer Roy and John rolled down their windows. Roy spotted a woman on the other side of the road. As he watched her from the corner of his eye, he saw her take notice of the crowd forming. Then her hands flew to her mouth in horror; there was something going on that alarmed her. Heedless of the danger, she darted into the road toward the house, ignoring the oncoming squad. Roy slammed on the brakes, screeching to a halt less than three inches away. The woman ran on, the near miss paling in comparison to the commotion.

Johnny growled wordlessly, adding, "I don't believe this!"

Roy craned his neck, trying to see what his partner had spotted. The angle was wrong; all Roy could see was the unhappy crowd, but it had to have something to do with the woman's reaction.

Johnny picked up the mike from the dash board. "LA, Squad 51. We have a non-code R at..." John looked for a house number, "#451 Belmont. There is a baby trapped on a roof."

Roy's eyebrows shot up, not believing it, but at the same time a chill ran down his spine. '_A baby? For real, this time?'_ He pulled the squad to the edge of the road squawking the siren to get the crowd to move aside and parked the vehicle. Johnny was out in a shot. He ran up the lawn of the two story house, then toward the back yard.

Roy stepped out of the squad looking up, and caught sight of a tiny head as a child no more than two years old disappeared over the peak of the roof. A woman in the crowd in front of the house screamed, but Roy ignored her as he moved to the side compartments and began to take out equipment.

Vince drove up and parked in front of the squad. "Hey, dispatch called me, Roy, what'cha got?"

"I'm not sure, Vince. We noticed these folks out here and stopped. Then Johnny and I saw a child maybe two years old up on the roof. Johnny's already back there. Give me a hand?"

"Sure thing."

Vince grabbed the O2 tank and trauma box as the paramedic picked up the biophone* and drug box. They both made their way up the driveway to the back of the house. Roy saw that Johnny was almost to the top of an A frame ladder headed for the roof. The child was still up there reaching for a cat that had planted itself quite comfortably on the top of a roof gable just below the peak.

"How'd the kid get up there?" Vince wondered aloud.

Roy had been wondering the same thing and scanned the top of the house for better access to the child. There was an open window on the top floor just to the left of the gable that had bars over it. It would have been a tight squeeze, but the child must have slipped between the bars to get out. He pointed to the window and Vince frowned.

"You think the kid went through that window, and climbed all the way to the top?"

Roy shrugged but kept his voice low. The last thing he wanted to do was to startle the child. "It sure does look that way." Roy turned to the woman who was following Johnny's progress up the ladder. "Ma'am, is this your place?"

"Oh God, that's my baby! I can't believe George got it wrong with the bars. I told my husband to put bars on the second floor windows. Julia crawled out the window before. Not this high, but in our old place, a one story ranch. When we moved here I insisted that bars be put on the windows."

Johnny had made it up onto the roof. Roy watched his partner nervously; the slope was pretty steep and it was obvious that Johnny wanted to try to get past the gable and underneath the child. Moving slowly to his left and advancing up the roof, Johnny kept his eyes on the girl who was squatting down just above the cat and petting the furry animal. Johnny had made it more than halfway up the vertical slope of the roof and was just underneath the top of the gable when the cat turned its head and saw him approaching. The animal hissed and leapt up to the peak of the roof past the surprised child who stood up quickly with the cat's movement.

Standing up so suddenly caused the little girl to lose her balance, and she tumbled backward. Johnny jumped to his left, reaching frantically for the child. She rolled down the slope of the roof past the gable and straight into Johnny's outstretched arms.

Roy felt his heart beat faster as he watched the scene, helpless to do anything about it. Johnny pulled the now screaming child tight to his chest as he tried to control his own descent down the slope of the roof. He twisted his torso, rotating his shoulders and hips, to keep himself from rolling. He skidded down the roof on his back over the rough surface of the shingles. It was hard on the fireman's back but the child was protected from further harm—that was all that counted. It only took seconds for the pair to reach the end of the roof and then there was nothing left, but a fifteen foot drop to the concrete below.

Roy watched helplessly feeling that time had slowed down as if the world was controlled by some demonic projectionist. The film seemed to feed slowly, frame by frame, maximizing the impact of each moment by stretching seconds into minutes.

The sound of the mother's terrified scream resonated in Roy's ears while he saw every detailed movement; Johnny's arms and legs curling up and surrounding the child in a protective cradle, his body vibrating as they skidded over rough shingles toward the edge, and then in slow motion his body bounced over the gutter at the end of the roof. Roy could almost _feel_ the sudden silence that followed his partner hitting nothing but empty air.

That deafening silence was shattered by the sound of Johnny's body impacting with the ground. The concussion that rippled through him as he slammed to the cement accentuated the explosive whoosh of air leaving his lungs.

Roy, Vince, and Julia's mother literally held their breath for a moment as neither Johnny nor the child seemed to move, and then Julia started wailing and reaching out past the arms surrounding her. Time had resumed its normal flow. Roy darted forward just as Johnny's limp arms fell to the ground, freeing the little girl. He scooped her up as Vince knelt down beside Johnny.

"Check her out, Roy. I'll get Johnny."

"Just don't move him." Roy said, in a strained voice.

He moved into full paramedic mode and that meant the civilian had to come first. Julia reached for her mother, and Roy allowed the hysterical child to go to her to be held while he checked her over for injuries.

Vince leaned over Johnny's supine form and gently touched his shoulder. "Johnny? Hey, Pal, can you hear me?"

The moment seemed to drag on forever before Johnny's eyes shot open and he gasped as if coming up for air like someone who had been submerged underwater for too long. His unfocused eyes held the kind of panic that comes from a primal fear of not being able to breathe. He tried to get up, but Vince held him down.

"Whoa, easy there. You just lie still for a minute."

John coughed a few times and seemed to have a little trouble catching his breath. Roy had set up the biophone to contact Rampart. With one hand holding the phone he used his other to pull the O2 mask from the tank and tossed it to Vince. "Put that on him," he ordered as he adjusted the flow, before returning his attention to the immediate task at hand.

"Rampart, this is Rescue 51. How do you read?"

After a moment a female voice came over the speaker.

"This is Rampart. Go ahead, 51."

"Rampart, we have two victims who fell fifteen feet from a roof. Victim number one is a two-year-old female. She was cradled against the chest of victim number two and has no obvious major injury. She has an abrasion on her left knee. She is frightened and crying, but vital signs are otherwise normal. Victim number two is a 26-year-old paramedic with a possible spinal injury. His head did not hit the ground, but he lost consciousness briefly and may have stopped breathing for a moment as well. Hold for vital signs."

Roy moved over closer to Johnny getting his first good look at his partner. "Hey, partner, just hold still for a few minutes while I check you out okay?"

Johnny just nodded his head and breathed in through the oxygen mask that Vince had placed over his face.

"Rampart, vitals on victim two are: Pulse 95, respirations 30, and a BP of 100 over 76."

Roy began to assess Johnny for broken bones, gently feeling behind his neck for any displacement. "Johnny, tell me what hurts. Can you move your arms and legs okay?"

Johnny reached up and pulled the mask down off his face. "I can feel and move my legs and arms. My neck feels okay and I didn't hit my head. My upper back and shoulders are pretty sore. I definitely got the wind knocked out of me, but I think that's the worst of it. How's the little girl? Did she get hurt?"

Johnny tried to get up so he could see her, but Roy held him down. "She's fine, Junior. You took the full force of the fall."

"51, this is Rampart. What other injuries does your second victim have?" It was the deeper voice of Dr. Brackett.

Roy grabbed the phone. "There doesn't appear to be anything broken. The victim complains of soreness along the upper back and shoulders, which is what he fell on. He is alert and oriented. I've got him on 6 liters of O2."

"51, how is your two-year-old victim right now?"

Roy looked over at the child who had stopped crying, and while clinging to her mother, looked on with wide curious eyes at the paramedics. "She's calmed down, and stopped crying. No apparent serious injury, vitals are normal and she is also alert and oriented."

"51, tell her parents to bring her in to be checked out or have them follow up with their pediatrician. Can your second victim move? I want you to check his back."

"10-4. Hold on, Rampart." Roy turned to Julia's mother. "Would you like us to take Julia to Rampart Emergency to be evaluated? The emergency doc says that you can take her to your own pediatrician, if you'd rather."

Julia's mother held her daughter tightly. "No, that will be fine. I'll call her doctor and my husband. You need to take care of your partner. Is he going to be all right?"

Roy smiled at the young mother. "That's what I'm going to find out right now."

Roy turned his attention back to his partner. "Okay, Johnny, can you sit up?" Roy asked, as he helped the younger man get up into a sitting position.

Johnny moved stiffly, but he didn't seem to have any serious or sharp pain when he sat up. The back of Johnny's shirt had gotten torn when he skidded down the shingles of the roof. Roy used his scissors to cut through the shredded fabric and winced at the scrapes covering Johnny's shoulder blades and spine. He gently palpated the spine and bones of both shoulders not feeling anything out of place_. 'Road pizza' doesn't even begin to describe what I'm seeing, partner._

Julia's mother gasped when she saw Johnny's back and Roy could imagine her envisioning those same kinds of injuries on her daughter. He noticed her out of the corner of his eye look her daughter over again.

Roy returned his focus on his second patient. "Rampart, there are some abrasions across both shoulder blades but it doesn't appear as though any bones were broken. Deep bruising has already started along the entire upper portion of his back."

"51, is there an ambulance at your location?"

"Uh, that's negative, Rampart. This was a non code R call."

There was a pause before Dr. Brackett asked, "I want to see your partner. Do you think you can get him here in the squad or should we dispatch an ambulance to your location?"

Roy looked at Johnny who nodded his head. "I'm okay, Roy. Just got the wind knocked out of me. The squad will be fine."

"Rampart, he should be fine to come in the squad."

"10-4, 51. I want you guys in here now. What's your ETA?"

"Time to transport 15 minutes." Roy said, as he stood and helped his partner to his feet.

TBC

*So I have seen biophone spelled with the hyphen (bio-phone) and without the hyphen. I wanted to know which was correct and I found the answer. It is biophone. This is a link to the info. You will have to remove the spaces to get it to work. Danged site won't allow outside links!

http: / en. wikipedia .org/wiki/Biophone

What is kind of cool is the actual biophone that was used on the show Emergency! is now displayed in the Smithsonian because it was considered a public service. I thought that was pretty cool.


	2. Chapter 2

**Checks and Balances**

**Chapter 2**

The multiple vehicle accident from earlier that morning was still clogging up the emergency department at Rampart. Adding to the mayhem, several patients were being seen due to an outbreak of gang hostilities from one of the nearby neighborhoods, injuries from three separate fire calls, as well as a waiting room full of walk-in patients that all made for controlled bedlam in the ER.

Johnny had removed his torn uniform shirt and put on his jacket, zipping it most of the way up. At the scene, Roy applied some gauze bandages to the scrapes on his back which helped to cushion the discomfort, but he found himself walking rather stiffly through the ER up to the nurses' station where Dixie sat.

"Hey, Dix, I see it hasn't slowed down much around here." Johnny commented, as he looked around at the plethora of hospital employees and police officers walking through the hallway. "Maybe I should ask for a rain check."

"Let me guess: you are the hero who saved a little girl, but in the process knocked yourself out falling off a roof," Dixie said, with a smile as she stood up and took the younger paramedic by the arm to guide him into one of the treatment rooms. "Sorry, Johnny. No rain checks on this. I'm putting you in Exam Room Nine."

There was already a patient in the room lying on one of two stretchers. Dixie noticed the dubious look on both paramedics' faces. "Have a seat, Johnny," she instructed, pointing to the stretcher closest to the door, as she stepped over and pulled a curtain between the stretchers turning the room into two cubicles rather than one good sized examination room.

"We've been doubling and tripling up all day. Now, let's take a look at your back. Can you get that jacket off?" she asked.

Roy took one sleeve while Dixie took the other to help get the garment off. Dixie's eyes widened at the injury. "How far did you fall?"

Johnny shrugged then made a sour face as that particular motion was not well received by his sore back. "Not sure, maybe ten feet."

"More like fifteen," Roy put in.

"How much pain are you in?" Dixie asked, pointedly.

"Well, let's just say I won't be doing any dancing tonight. I'm pretty sore, but it isn't unmanageable."

The head nurse was re-checking Johnny's vitals when the door opened up and Dr. Brackett stepped into the room.

"Roy, John," he said, by way of greeting. "If you'll give me a few minutes, I'll be right with you."

"Sure, no problem Doc," Johnny said, as Dr. Brackett stepped to the other side of the room and disappeared behind the drawn curtain. While the doctor spoke quietly with the patient in the other bed, Dixie continued questioning Johnny.

"So what happened? How did you come to a non code R where there was a baby on the roof of a house?"

Johnny's trademark crooked smile appeared as he raised his hands to begin telling the story, but the quick movement caused the pain in his shoulders to flare briefly, and his smile turned to a grimace of pain. "I'll let Roy tell the story. He had a better view of it anyway."

Roy proceeded to tell Dixie all about how they had come across this run unexpectedly and gave the details explaining Johnny's actions while the nurse removed the gauze and thoroughly cleaned the abrasions on Johnny's back, much to the younger man's rather vocal discomfort. Once Roy was finished, Dixie had also completed her ministrations.

"Wow, that really _is_ quite a story," she said, with admiration for the young paramedic who was now blushing beat red.

"He made me sound like some sort of hero. Man, I should let you tell these stories all the time, partner." John was smiling and feeling slightly bemused at hearing Roy's point of view of the events. In actuality, Johnny thought the incident made him seem awkward and clumsy. He felt foolish for having fallen off the roof of a building that wasn't even burning.

"Honestly, Dix, it wasn't that big a deal. I was just doing my job, and if I had done it a little better..." he paused and ducked his head down. "I wouldn't have fallen off the roof like a damned boot in his first week."

Roy frowned at that. "Hey, when did you get so modest? You saved that little girl today from some pretty nasty injuries. That fall could have easily killed her. You keep acting out of character and I'll ask Dr. Brackett to do a skull series on you."

Johnny knew that Roy was only joking, but he felt a little funny about the entire incident. He could just picture the ribbing he would take from Chet about falling off a roof. He didn't have a chance to ponder it further as Dr. Brackett came back around from the other side of the treatment room.

"What's this about a skull series? I thought you didn't hit your head."

"I didn't." Johnny said at the same time Roy commented, "Johnny is just being uncharacteristically modest about this rescue."

Dr. Brackett raised his eyebrows as his mouth twitched into a smirk. "I don't know; a modest John Gage could be a reasonable indication of a head injury."

"Aw, come on. You guys are just ganging up on me now." Johnny complained.

"Maybe so. Let's take a look at you, though." Dr. Brackett said, as he winked at Roy and Dixie.

Dr. Brackett began his examination of Johnny's reflexes and injuries, while the elderly patient from the other side of the room came around the curtain, buttoning up his shirt. Dixie went over to guide him out of the exam room, but as the door was opened for him, he turned to his fellow patient. "You sounded like a bonafide hero to me, son," he said, before he stepped out through the door.

Johnny felt his face flush yet again at the unexpected praise. It only took ten minutes for Dr. Brackett to finish his exam. "Well, I'd say you were very lucky, Johnny. That fall could have caused some serious injuries."

Dr. Brackett stepped over to the cabinet at the wall and fished around before coming back with a small bottle. "This is cyclobenzaphrine. It's a muscle relaxer. You won't be able to take this while you are still on duty, but by tomorrow you are going to be pretty sore. You have some nasty bruising across your back. Take one every six hours to keep the muscle spasms from causing you too much pain. It doesn't look like you've broken anything, but I want you to have a chest x-ray before you go. Radiology is pretty jammed up with all of the accident and gang violence victims so it may be quite a while before we can get a tech over here."

"I could just go down to the radiology department if that would be easier." Johnny offered.

Dr. Brackett nodded. "We could use the room since we still have quite a few patients yet to see, but I won't clear you for duty until I have seen the chest x-ray."

Roy, who had taken a seat on one of the stools in the corner of the room, stood up. "We'll bring the pictures back to you when we get done over in radiology."

"Okay, sounds good. Oh and, Johnny, you really were a hero today."

Johnny stared at Dr. Brackett feeling awkward again and not knowing for sure if the man was joking with him or if he was serious. "Yeah, okay, doc. Thanks."

If Johnny thought the ER was busy it was nothing compared to the radiology department that had to handle not only the ER patients, but surgical patients, patients who were admitted to the hospital, oncology patients, orthopedic patients and their own queue of out-patients or walk-ins.

Johnny was placed higher in the queue because he was an ER patient, but they still waited almost an hour to get in to have the films done. While they were waiting, another technologist was called in to help out with the glut of exams waiting to be done. By the time Johnny and Roy made their way back to the ER with films in hand it was nearly ninety minutes since Dr. Brackett had sent them over to radiology.

The guys walked up to Dixie standing at the base station, and narrowly missed bumping into Dr. Brackett as he walked out of an exam room on their left.

"There you are!" the doctor exclaimed. "I was beginning to think that you guys had left without getting John's x-ray."

Johnny just shook his head at the state of the entire hospital that day. "We're just getting back from radiology. They are even busier than you guys, if you can believe it."

"Oh I can believe it. Look, I know you guys need to get back on duty. Are those the films?" he asked, as he took the large manila colored folder Johnny was holding.

"Yeah, hot off the presses," the paramedic quipped.

Dr. Brackett looked in both directions seeing nurses and orderlies stepping in and out of all the exam rooms up and down the hall. "Come on; let's take these to my office. It is probably the only light box available."

They made it part way down the hall when Dr. Early stepped out of exam room two. "Kel, can I get you to look at my patient in two?"

"Yeah, Joe, I'll be there in a minute," Dr. Brackett called, over his shoulder.

They only made it another few feet when one of the nurses walked up to Dr. Brackett and handed him a few sheets of paper. "These are the lab results on Mr. Barrows, Dr. Brackett."

Dr. Brackett stopped for a moment and looked at the report then handed it back to the nurse. "That's what I thought. Get respiratory down here for another albuterol treatment, then draw the blood gases again."

Roy and Johnny followed Dr. Brackett down the hall toward the ambulance bay doors where his office was located. Johnny lagged behind feeling somewhat overwhelmed by the activity all around. He quickened his pace when he saw Roy looking back for him as he and Dr. Brackett entered the office at the end of the hall. Dr. Brackett pulled the films out of the jacket and threw them up on the light box flipping the switch.

He looked intently at the films and Roy could tell he was tracing the ribs with his eyes, looking for breaks or cracks. He carefully looked at the lateral or side view of the chest which showed the bones of the thoracic spine very clearly.

"The x-rays look good, so I will clear you for duty," Dr. Brackett finally announced. "If you get too uncomfortable, Johnny, let me know and we can cut your shift short if necessary."

"That's okay, doc." Johnny forced a shrug, refusing to allow the sharp pain to show on his face. "Our shift ends in a little over twelve hours anyway. Then we're off for three days. I'm good for it and, besides," he aimed a crooked grin at his partner, "these guys need me, ya know being a hero and all."

That comment earned him a slap on the arm from Roy but it didn't deter Johnny for continuing to speak. "Have you noticed how busy we've been? Must be a full moon, or something."

Dr. Brackett nodded as he switched off the light box, but he left the films there. "Three days off? That's good. You are going to need them to rest. The muscle relaxers will allow you to get some quality sleep and they should make you more comfortable. That bruising will take a solid week or so to begin to clear up, and the first few days will be the most uncomfortable."

Johnny sighed at the statement.

"What's the matter, Junior?"

"I'm supposed to be going out tomorrow on a date with the new nurse in Orthopedics. I guess I'll have to cancel." Johnny said dejectedly, then his classic grin returned. "Ooor... maybe she would be willing to entertain a _'house call'_ Ya know for the hero n' all."

Roy rolled his eyes and Dr. Brackett laughed. "You never cease to amaze me, Johnny. Just don't over do it or you'll wind up with _me_ giving you a house call!"

Johnny made quite a face at that prospect. "Thanks, Doc., but I think I'll pass. I'll catch ya on the flip side." Johnny smiled as he turned to leave.

As the two men walked out to the waiting squad Roy shook his head at his partner. "I'll catch ya on the flip side? What is that supposed to mean?"

Johnny raised his hand to pat Roy's shoulder and winced at the movement. "Ya know something, Roy? You're getting old."

TBC


	3. Chapter 3

**Checks and Balances**

**Chapter 3**

Johnny was quiet on the ride back to the station. Roy called the dispatcher to let him know that they were available. Once Roy backed the squad into place he turned off the engine and looked at his partner who was still being uncharacteristically quiet.

"Everything ok there, Junior?"

Johnny looked at Roy and then past him. "I'm not sure..." he said, as he pointed out Roy's window. "I'll tell ya in a minute."

Roy turned his attention to where John was pointing and saw a very serious looking Captain Stanley standing there staring at the men in the squad.

"Uh-oh. I guess we'd better see what's up," Roy said, as he opened the door and slipped out of the cab.

Roy and Johnny exchanged a confused look as they followed what appeared to be a very irritated captain into his office. Once inside, Stanley turned to his younger paramedic. "So? Are you all right?"

Johnny stepped back slightly, somewhat taken aback by his captain's tone. "Uh, yeah sure."

This time Captain Stanley turned to Roy. "Here I thought you guys were right behind us, but when you didn't turn up at the station I called the dispatcher. How in the blue blazes do you two do it? How do you end up responding to a non code R and then having one of you end up being the only code I from the scene?"

Roy shifted from foot to foot. He should have called the station. He had honestly let that detail slip his mind. It had, after all, been a very long day. "Uh, well ya see, Cap..."

"And how did I know it was you?" Cap interrupted, as he once again turned his focus onto the younger paramedic. "Because almost an hour ago I got a call from a very grateful mother asking how fireman Gage was after falling fifteen feet off the roof of her house while in the process of rescuing her two year old daughter. Imagine my surprise when I can only tell her that I didn't have a clue what she was talking about!"

Roy saw movement out of the corner of his eye. The office door was open and he saw Chet's curly head for a moment. The guys must have heard about the phone call. Judging by the fact that Chet and possibly the others were lurking just out of sight, Cap must not have given any details about that call. In the back of Roy's mind he was wondering what they thought of the earful they were getting now.

"Do either of you know what I have been going through since I got that call? Obviously, you're all right. You're standing here in my office. It never once occurred to you to call your captain, you know the guy who has to fill out all the paperwork, to tell him what is going on with his men." The angry man turned back to Roy. "That I expect from him, but not you, Roy."

Roy was crushed at that last statement. He knew perfectly well that Cap was just venting his frustration. He found out that Johnny had been injured, possibly seriously, in a very unfortunate manner and was now blowing off all the worry. Getting told that he should have known better touched a nerve, because he _did_ know better. He should have contacted the station to let everyone know what was going on.

"I'm sorry, Cap..." Roy began just as Johnny said,

"Hey!" ready to form an objection to Cap's last comment when he fell silent at the look on Cap's face.

Captain Stanley looked at both men and his features softened. He was clearly relieved that they were both safe and back in quarters. "It looks like you could use a change of clothes, John. Why don't you go do that while we get some dinner out for you two?"

His fears and frustration vented, Cap was back to his old self and ushered the two thoroughly chastised men from his office. Roy nearly bumped into Chet as he stepped out of the office and the other men of A shift quickly dispersed rather than incur their own lecture about eavesdropping.

Johnny went straight to his locker and opened it to pull out a clean uniform shirt. The old one was still in the seat of the cab where he intended to let it hide for a little while until he was certain that Cap was in a better mood. Roy was right behind him and saw him struggling to get the jacket off.

"Here, let me help you with that." Roy offered knowing how sore Johnny's shoulders were. Dr. Brackett had applied new smaller bandaging to the abrasions but Roy knew that they would be irritated and possibly itchy.

The bruise that had begun to form when Johnny was being examined by Dr. Brackett had grown to encompass both shoulder blades, all the way across the spine, and had turned a deep purplish red, looking about as awful as a bruise could look.

"Holy Cow!" came Chet's voice. "You'd better not let Cap see that or you'll get another lecture."

Mike whistled at the sight. "Man, Gage, you sure can land yourself into some spots. That looks terrible..."

"And painful!" Marco added.

Johnny put his shirt on over the injury scowling to himself. Roy could tell that the guys' scrutiny was bothering him. "Yeah, well, you guys better get out to the kitchen before Cap comes looking for ya."

Roy knew that the captain's focus was off Johnny now that he had had his say, but an hour's worth of worry was probably not completely gone with just one '_lecture_'.

The guys looked at each other and shrugged, but they dispersed and Roy turned to his partner. The look on Johnny's face said it all to Roy. "Hey, they are only concerned about you."

"Oh yeah, sure. You wait, Roy," Johnny predicted. "There will be cracks about clumsiness, losing my balance, or something like that. I'm never gonna hear the end of it."

Roy shook his head, smiling at his partner. "I think you underestimate the guys."

Johnny stepped over to the sink and splashed water on his face. He obviously wasn't buying it and it showed in the taut muscles of his arms. He grabbed some paper towels from the dispenser, blotting the water and turned to face Roy.

"Mark my words. I don't think I'm underestimating anyone, especially Chet. You'll see, these guys are gonna give me the business."

Johnny crumpled up the wet toweling and chucked it in the waste basket before coming back and sitting down on the bench. "Man, I sure wish that lady hadn't called."

"Hey, she was just concerned and grateful. Look, Junior, I think you're making too big a deal about this."

Johnny slowly stood up, muttering under his breath as he finished buttoning his clean shirt and gingerly tucking it in.

Roy closed the locker door for him and said, "Come on. I don't know about you, but I'm starved."

Johnny followed Roy out of the locker room and across the apparatus bay. They could smell Mike's fried chicken coming from the kitchen. As they stepped through the door Roy had to smirk. Johnny knew his crew mates so well. One of the chairs had already been completely wrapped in a thick layer of toilet paper. John caught sight of it and stopped dead in his tracks.

"Aw, come on, Gage. Mr. Whipple sent over his best case of Charmin. He even said you could squeeze it," Chet crooned. "We don't want you falling or anything, so we made you a nice soft chair to sit on."

Johnny looked at Chet with an expression that said _this wasn't over_ as all the men laughed. Then his face brightened. The guys had used so much toilet paper on the chair that it actually looked somewhat comfortable and his back _was_ pretty sore. He stepped over to the chair and waited, looking at Chet expectantly.

Chet looked a little confused until Roy whispered loud enough for all to hear, "He's waiting for you to pull out his chair."

Chet turned an incredulous stare to Roy.

"Hey, you started this, Pally. Don't get cheesed when he plays along," Roy admonished.

Chet smirked and bowed slightly as if taking the challenge. He stepped over to the chair and pulled it out for Johnny. After getting him pushed in to the table, he turned and grabbed a white hand towel from the drawer and a hot mitt. He pulled a hot plate of food from the oven, then threw the towel over his forearm like some kind of waiter in a fancy restaurant and served the plate to Johnny with a flourish.

"Hmm, so this is how ya get a little service around here." Johnny grinned, playing the joke for all it was worth.

Before Chet could reply, Marco interrupted. "Don't keep us in suspense. Tell us what happened."

Mike joined the men at the table. "Yeah, tell us. Cap didn't say anything."

Cap had just come around the corner as Mike spoke. "That's because I didn't really know anything other than what Mrs. Benjamin said on the phone. So yes, guys, _do tell_ how this call happened. The last thing we knew you were headed back to the station behind us."

Roy looked at Johnny who held up a drumstick and quirked a grin at his partner. "You told the story so well before..."

All eyes turned to Roy who relayed the entire event from the time they came across the people gathering outside the Benjamin home, and even added the part about Johnny acting modestly when Roy told Dixie about the rescue.

The men of Station 51 seemed duly impressed with the story as Roy told it, and Chet even remarked, "Wow, Gage, that is some story."

"Yeah, no need to be modest, Johnny. You were a real honest hero today." Marco added.

Johnny shifted in his seat obviously feeling a little uncomfortable with the conversation, yet a small smile still shone through. "Yeah, okay, I'm a hero, but..." John stopped for a moment before he continued, "...I didn't do anything that any one of you wouldn't have done."

Roy looked sharply at his partner. _Did he sound out of breath?_

Chet and the others didn't seem to notice as Chet went in for the killer comment. "You know, Johnny, you are absolutely right. Any one of us would have done the same thing..." he paused for effect. "...only we wouldn't have fallen off the roof when we did."

Johnny gave Chet a sour look, then turned his attention to Roy with an expression that clearly said,_ 'I told you so.'_

"See what I have to put up with?" The younger paramedic complained.

Cap came to the rescue. "All right, that's enough, Chet. Let the guys get something to eat before they get called out again, will ya?"

Roy made no bones about digging into his food. Neither of them had had a chance to sit down to a full meal yet that day and Mike's fried chicken was worth sitting down to. It didn't take long for Roy to notice that Johnny was just staring off into space instead of eating.

"You okay, Johnny?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, just thinking."

"Okay, I'll bite."

"I was just wondering how..." John paused slightly "...that little girl got out between those bars."

"Well, she was pretty small, even for a two year old. Joanne has a friend, Colleen, who has an autistic boy. Something similar happened with her son. She told Joanne that after that incident they ended up bolting the windows shut. Wouldn't surprise me if the Benjamin's do the same thing real quick."

Johnny was about to comment on that when the tones went off again for them.

"Squad 51, Woman down at the Natural Museum and Art Gallery, 1431 Wilshire, cross street Fairfax. 1 4 3 1 Wilshire. Time out 19:52."

Johnny set down the piece of chicken in his hand untouched, and groaned. "Not another one! What is this, an even dozen calls for today? Enough is enough!"

Roy jumped up and headed for the squad, Johnny right behind him. When Roy handed the call sheet off to Johnny, he noticed that his partner's hand felt oddly cold, but the thought was lost as they pulled out and headed for downtown LA.

As Roy pulled up to the curb outside the museum he glanced over at his partner who was looking out the windshield at the crowd of people in fancy dress gathered outside the building.

"Must be some kind of new exhibit or something." Johnny remarked.

Roy looked over as well. "Yeah, I guess." The paramedics got out and were met by a man in a tuxedo.

"Hurry, right this way."

Johnny and Roy grabbed their equipment from the side compartment and hurried after the gentleman who led the paramedics up into the front lobby of the museum where a small crowd had gathered around a woman who was lying on the floor.

"What happened?" Roy asked as he and Johnny squatted down next to the victim and began opening their equipment.

The man in the tux stood wringing his hands. "She started acting oddly, like she was drunk, but Darla doesn't drink, not a drop. She never has. I tried to get her to go with her sister Clara to the bathroom, but she started screaming at me, and Clara, and anyone who came near her. Then she just passed out cold."

Johnny opened up the biophone while Roy began taking the woman's vital signs. "Sir, is Darla a diabetic?" he asked the man.

"Uh, yes she is, but I know that she took her insulin today. I was there when she did."

Johnny had gotten Rampart on the line, and Roy continued to talk to the man in the tux. "Has she had anything to eat since she took her insulin?"

"Rampart, this is squad 51." Johnny coughed slightly then continued, "how do you read me?"

While he waited for a response, Roy called out the vital signs. "She's diaphoretic, pulse is 95, BP is 100 over 70, respirations are 12."

"We read you, squad 51." Dr. Early's voice came on over the phone.

"Rampart, we have a female victim age approximately 35 years old. She is a diabetic on insulin. She is unresponsive, diaphoretic..." _cough_ "Pulse is..." Johnny looked up at Roy for the pulse rate.

Roy frowned at him then repeated the vitals. "Pulse 95, respirations 12, BP 100 over 70."

Johnny wrote down the numbers as Roy repeated them. "Uh, Rampart,..." _cough_ "The pulse was 12, uh, just a minute, Rampart, that's a pulse of 95, _respiration_ is 12, BP is 100 over 70."

Dr. Early's voice came back over the speaker. "51, has she had her insulin today?"

"Uh, that's affirmative, Rampart," Johnny said, as he pulled out a bag of IV fluid.

"Give the patient 50 CC 50% Dextrose IV push. Start an IV of D5W and take the blood pressure again." Early ordered.

Johnny set up the IV bag while Roy inserted the needle and filled the syringe with the dextrose for the IV push. When Johnny handed the IV bag to Roy the older paramedic looked at it and frowned. Dr. Early had clearly ordered D5W and that was an order that they both would have expected, but the IV solution that Johnny pulled out was Ringers Lactate.

"Johnny, that's not D5W," Roy said, and he handed the bag back to Johnny.

Johnny frowned at the bag in his hand turning it over as if seeing it for the first time. "Uh, yeah," he said, as he set the opened bag back into the drug box and pulled out the correct IV solution.

Roy stepped over to the drug box and handed Johnny the stethoscope. "Get a new set of vitals. I've got this." He said, indicating that he would finish setting up the IV solution.

Johnny did as he was asked, and called in the update to Rampart.

"10-4, 51. Transport as soon as possible." Dr. Early said.

Roy had established the IV just as the ambulance attendants arrived with the gurney, and helped the men get the woman on the gurney while Johnny began closing up the drug box and other equipment.

"I'll ride in with her," Roy said, as he grabbed the biophone and drug box. The woman began to rouse and Roy concentrated on keeping her calm as the gurney was rolled out of the lobby. "You're going to be all right, ma'am. We're taking you to Rampart General."

Johnny took the defibrillator and oxygen tank with him back to the squad. Roy glanced at his partner as a nagging feeling kept distracting him. Johnny's back must have been bothering him. Roy could clearly see that lifting the oxygen tank was painful from his position as he got up into the ambulance.

He didn't have time to worry about Johnny because his patient needed his full attention as she became verbally combative when she realized she was being loaded into the back of an ambulance. Johnny finished packing up the squad and climbing into the cab he followed behind the ambulance. Roy glanced out the back door window and saw the squad following them about a block behind but frowned in complete confusion when the ambulance made a left hand turn onto Wilmont and the squad kept going straight.

"Where is he going?" Roy wondered aloud, but his attention was diverted to the patient.

"What are you talking about? Why are you doing this to me? I want to go back to the exhibit, right now." The woman demanded.

"Ma'am, we are taking you to Rampart General Hospital. You had a reaction to your insulin and lost conciseness." Roy explained again.

"I did? I think you said that already didn't you?" she asked calming down slightly.

Roy looked out the back window again as though the squad would magically appear behind them as he spoke. "Yes, ma'am. You will be just fine. Your blood sugar just got a little low."

So went the rest of the ride to Rampart, with Roy explaining the situation to the patient over and over again while continuing to glance out the back window hoping to see his partner.

Once the patient was in a treatment room and Roy had given his final assessment report he stepped out into the hallway expecting to see his partner, but there was no sign of him. He walked over to the base station, where Dixie was just finishing up a call with Squad 10.

"Hey, Dix, you seen Johnny?"

"No, Roy, why? What's up?"

Roy didn't answer her. Instead he stepped purposefully to the land line and dialed the dispatcher.

"LA this is paramedic Roy DeSoto. Can you give me a status on Squad 51?"

"Squad 51 is enroute to Rampart hospital. Hold on a moment please."

Roy frowned as the worry nagging at him took a sharp upswing. He looked over at Dixie who came over to stand beside him, concern in her eyes mirroring his own.

"Squad 51 just reported arrival at Rampart ER."

"Uh, okay. Thanks," Roy said, as he hung up the phone.

"What's going on, Roy?" Dixie asked.

"Johnny didn't follow the ambulance in. We turned off Fairfax on to Wilmont and he went straight."

Dixie shrugged. "It happens, Roy. I'd hate to admit how many times I've been driving home on auto-pilot after a long shift and missed the turn-off to my own house."

"That's not all." Roy wasn't finished. "Dr. Early ordered D5W and Johnny set up an IV with Ringers Lactate. I caught the mistake and we gave the patient the correct IV, but now this?"

Dixie patted Roy's shoulder reassuringly. "Well, Roy, anyone can make a mistake, even Johnny. You guys have had a really long day. I think I have seen more today than I have in the last two shifts."

Roy sighed, wanting to feel reassured. "Yeah... Yeah, I'm sure that's all there is to it."

Dixie smiled at him and nodded past him. "Well, why don't you ask him?"

Roy turned and saw his wayward partner walking down the hall toward the base station with the HT in his hand.

"Hey, what happened?" Roy asked.

Johnny acted like he wasn't sure Roy was speaking to him and looked behind him to see if there was someone else there. He looked back and pointed to himself with a clear question on his face.

"You disappeared. One minute you were following the ambulance and then you weren't."

Johnny's face fell as he shrugged a little. "Oh, that. I, ahh, missed the turn."

Roy wasn't buying it. Johnny wasn't telling him something. "How did you miss that turn?"

Johnny looked decidedly uncomfortable and lowered his voice. "I got distracted. I was thinking about that... um, you know that thing back there... and realized too late that you were turning. I just went around the block."

It was Roy's turn to look confused. "What're you talking about?"

Dixie spoke before Johnny could form a reply. "Johnny, are you talking about the Ringers versus D5W?"

Johnny's mouth opened and he glared at Roy. "You told her?" He looked back at Dixie. "No offense, Dix."

Johnny looked back at his partner incredulously. Dixie shook her head. "Why is it such a big deal, Johnny? Anyone can make an honest mistake, especially since you guys have been going practically nonstop all day. Why do you think we nurses keep checking each other? It's the best way to protect the patient."

Johnny just shook his head and muttered, "Thanks, pal," as he turned to walk off.

Roy watched Johnny stride away feeling helpless. He hadn't meant to betray Johnny's trust, he was just concerned about him. Johnny was as sharp as any paramedic in the business and it wasn't like him to make a mistake like that. Of course, Johnny would feel upset about it. It isn't really surprising that Johnny was preoccupied by making a mistake causing him to miss the turn off Fairfax. Becoming obsessed with a mistake, especially one with a patient, was very _much_ like his partner.

"Roy, he'll be fine. You know how sensitive Johnny can be. Just give him a little while to cool off." Dixie said in a comforting voice.

"Yeah, you're right. Hey, I gotta go catch up with him, Dix. See ya later."

TBC

A/N: I would once again like to thank my betas Outhaknowbetter and The Delirium Threemen for putting up with me. Thanks to their help and advice I have been able to clean up some sticky spots both medically and with story flow. You guys rock.


	4. Chapter 4

**Checks and Balances**

**Chapter 4**

By the time Roy got out to the squad, Johnny was sitting in the passenger seat, his head laid back with his eyes closed. Roy hesitated before opening the door to the cab and getting in.

He reached for the key in the ignition to turn on the engine but stopped for a moment. "Look, Johnny, I'm sorry. I didn't know where you went, so I called the dispatcher to..."

"You called the dispatcher? Man, Roy. I just missed the turn is all." Johnny sat forward, panting slightly and coughed a short dry cough.

"I just asked what your status was. I didn't say anything, I just wanted to know where you were. What are you getting so sore about?"

Johnny leaned forward and grabbed the microphone. "LA, squad 51 available." He sat back and winced when his shoulders came in contact with the seat. "I don't want to talk about it."

Roy gave up trying to talk to Johnny. Dixie was right, he needed to give his partner time to cool off. By the time they got back to the station, however, Roy was feeling a bit put out by Johnny's attitude. He was the senior paramedic and had a right to question what happened in the field. He turned to face his partner to tell him exactly that, but Johnny had already opened the door and was stepping out of the cab.

Roy wasn't going to be deterred. He had been working on a slow burn all the way back to the station and was determined to set things straight with Johnny. He came around the back of the squad and stood in the way so that Johnny couldn't pass, a hard look on his face. Johnny looked up at Roy when he found his way blocked and came up short. Roy could tell that Johnny looked a little uncertain when he saw the expression on his face, but before either of them could say anything, a loud holler from the kitchen drew their attention.

Roy and John moved quickly, their argument forgotten, as Marco stood in front of the sink with water pouring over his hand; a stream of Spanish curses flowing freely from his mouth.

"What happened?" Roy asked, shoving his way through the gathered crew as he moved forward.

"Hot oil, Argh!" Marco shouted.

Johnny and Roy exchanged a quick look before Johnny turned and headed back out to the apparatus bay to get the drug box from the squad, nearly running into Captain Stanley.

Roy stepped up to Marco, who had calmed down as the cold water relieved the pain from the oil burn. It was a little hard to see the hand as water poured over it, but he didn't see any blisters which was a good sign. In a moment Johnny came into the kitchen out of breath and holding the drug box which he placed up on the counter next to the sink.

"Okay, Marco, let's take a look at that," Roy said, turning off the water.

Johnny had already opened up a large gauze pad and handed it to Roy for him to pat the injured hand dry. The back of Marco's hand from the middle finger to the pinky finger was bright red, but it didn't look too serious.

"You got it under water quickly, which was good. It looks like only a first degree burn. Painful, but not more than that."

Johnny coughed a couple of times as Roy turned Marco's hand over to inspect the palm. By the third dry sounding cough Roy turned his head to peer at his partner.

Johnny was busy opening up a Silvadine pack when he coughed yet again then said, "Chet! Oil's burning."

"I got it." Chet moved quickly to the stove and turned off the flame under the pot that Marco had been making popcorn in. Johnny handed the opened pack of Silvadine cream and grabbed a pack of two by two gauzes. Roy applied the cream which immediately gave the man some relief and took the gauze pads to cover up the burned area of Marco's hand. Roy reached his hand back to his partner who handed him a roll of gauze to wrap the hand in while Johnny pulled out a roll of tape to secure the gauze.

By the time Roy had finished with the bandage Marco was shaking his head. "Man, that was just stupid on my part. Thanks guys. It should be fine now."

Roy looked at his crew mate. "Do you want to go have this checked out at Rampart?"

Marco scoffed at the idea. "Heck, no, Roy. I've burned myself far worse cooking at home. Nah, it'll be fine."

"Does it still hurt?" Johnny asked, not really believing him.

"Yeah, a bit, but nothing I haven't had before. Seriously, guys, it's okay. Maybe I'll put a little ice on it."

Roy started picking up the discarded wrappers. "That's a good idea. Listen, Marco, don't be a tough guy. If this thing starts to hurt more than it does now, you need to tell us so we can get it looked at, but I think you're right, it's not a serious burn."

Cap didn't look so sure. "Are you sure, Marco? Roy?" Cap said directing his gaze to his senior paramedic.

"I promise!" Marco said as he held up his other hand. "Seriously, Cap, that cream made it feel a lot better. Say Roy, can I get some of that cream for home? I tend to burn myself at least once every few weeks."

Roy reached over to the drug box that Johnny was packing up and pulled out two of the blister packs of Silvadine and tossed them over.

Marco caught them easily enough with his good hand. "Well, the first batch of popcorn's done anyhow," he said, with a grin.

As Johnny closed up the drug box Roy threw out the used packages. "What's the movie tonight?" Roy asked.

Chet chimed in "CBS is showing The Night of the Living Dead."

Johnny shook his head as he picked up the drug box.

"What's with you, Johnny? You said you liked that film."

"Thanks, I'll pass." Johnny said.

"You'll pass? What do ya mean you'll pass? Whatsa' matter, you think you're gonna have nightmares of that new nurse coming for ya?" Chet said as he imitated a zombie shuffling toward him with his arms outstretched.

Johnny just turned his back and walked away.

"Aw, come on, Gage, it's a great movie." Chet called as he began to follow Johnny out to the squad, but he stopped when Roy reached out and put a hand on his forearm.

"Give it a rest, Chet," was all he said as he followed his partner.

"Talk about sensitive! Geeeshh! It's just a movie, is all I'm saying." Chet muttered as he began to move the chairs from the table over in front of the TV.

Roy stepped out into the apparatus bay just as Johnny was closing up the doors to the squad. "Hey, you okay?"

Johnny sighed and turned toward the dorm. "Can I talk to you privately?" he asked, moving past Roy and heading for the dorm.

"Yeah, sure." Roy followed his partner and took a seat on his bunk facing Johnny who had already sat down on his own.

"Look, Roy, I'm sorry I got sore at you earlier. It's just that I feel pretty stupid for mixing up the IV bags and you know Dixie is tight..." Johnny stopped for a moment. "... with Dr. Brackett. I just don't want him to think I can't do my job."

"Dr. Brackett wouldn't think that. Come on, Johnny, I know you better than that. What's really bugging you?"

Johnny got up and started walking toward the locker room unbuttoning his shirt as he went. Once he got there he sat down on the bench looking a little winded. "I feel lousy. If I'm supposed to feel worse tomorrow, I'm not looking forward to it."

Roy sat down on the bench next to Johnny. "Should we go back to Rampart?"

"Nah, they're still jammed up. I'll tell ya, though, if I still feel this lousy tomorrow, I'd even be willing to go see Morton," Johnny said, as he made an attempt to get his shirt off, wincing at the discomfort.

"What do you have against Morton?" Roy asked as he stood up and helped Johnny get the shirt down off his shoulders.

"Oh I don't know," Johnny answered sarcastically. "Maybe it's because the last time he saw me he called me soft."

Roy looked at the bruising across Johnny's back. "Yeah, well I don't think anyone can accuse you of being soft, sporting _this_ bruise."

Johnny turned his head trying to see over his shoulder, then thought better of the idea when the movement caused a sharp pain through his back and chest. "Bad?"

"It's not pretty." Roy admitted as he reached into Johnny's locker and pulled out a T-shirt to hand to him.

"Will you do me a favor?" Johnny asked as he gingerly got the shirt over his head. "Tomorrow, will ya drive me over to Rampart? I can't take those pills Brackett gave me while I'm on duty, but I plan to take a couple as soon as we are off shift."

"Yeah sure, but you know you'll probably have to see Morton."

"I know." Johnny said sourly. "Brackett said I'd be sore, and I am. I _do_ trust him, it's just..."

"You feel lousy. Dr. Brackett would be the first one to tell you to get checked again or to get a second opinion. We'll head over there right after we get off shift."

"Thanks, Roy. Maybe we should get Marco to tag along." Johnny quipped as he slipped off his trousers and put on a pair of long black sweat pants.

Roy hung his partner's shirt and pants, closing up his locker while Johnny brushed his teeth at the sink. Johnny looked so tired when he turned and headed back into the dorm that Roy followed closely behind. He noticed that Johnny was moving more slowly than he thought he should so he sat down on his bunk while John set up his turnouts for the overnight.

"Listen, maybe we should just go in to Rampart now."

"As jammed as they are from all the accidents today, we'd be there forever," Johnny said, as he lay down and threw his left arm over his face in his customary sleeping position. Roy just sat there watching him for a moment.

"You gonna watch me sleep, or go back and watch the movie?"

"Huh?" Roy didn't get up.

A moment or two passed before Johnny peeked out at his partner from behind his arm. "Roy, you're freaking me out a little."

Roy stood up. "Oh, uh sorry."

He wanted to say something else, but he didn't know what, so he just turned and left the dorm switching out the light as he went. Something about all of this was bothering him. Johnny was probably right. Roy trusted Dr. Brackett as much as Johnny did, and he knew that Brackett would never have cleared Johnny for duty if there was something wrong, so why did he have a feeling that something got missed?

* * *

><p>Dr. Baktash Bootorabi wasn't expecting a mildly frantic call from one of his radiology residents at nearly 10:00 at night. Nor did he expect that he would have to make a trip down to the ER to have a conference with Kelly Brackett, the head of the ER, but that was where Rampart's chief Radiologist found himself at five minutes to eleven that evening.<p>

"Hey, Kel, we have a problem."

"Boot, what're you still doing here? I thought you went home hours ago."

"I did, but my resident called me back. Some films were mis-labeled late this afternoon. The time stamp on the set of films I have is 17:43, but with a mix up in the ident cards the time could be wrong. I've spoken with Dr. Hargrove in oncology as well as Dr. Stackhouse, today's hospitalist*. The film doesn't match any of the oncology or in-house patients. I have also had the file secretary go through and pull every folder on our out-patient list for the day to try and find the patient matching the films that were mismarked and we have come up empty," he said, holding up a set of chest films.

"Okay, so what's the problem?" Dr. Bracket inquired. Dixie had just finished up some paperwork and stepped over when she overheard that there was a problem. As the head nurse for the ER it was her job to fix or clean up most of the '_problems_' that occurred so she knew this was something she should listen to.

"Process of elimination says it must be one of your ER patients. Here let me show you what were up against."

Dr. Bootorabi walked over to a treatment room and threw the films up on the light box. "That's the problem." He pointed to the film which showed a pneumothorax on the right.

"Kel, if the timestamp on the identification flasher is correct, this film was taken over six hours ago, and it could potentially be longer than that. If this has gone untreated then this man is in serious trouble."

Boot pointed to the identification square at the bottom left edge of the film. "This film is marked Roger Clements." Then he pulled another film out of a file folder. "Take a look at Mr. Clement's film from a month ago," he said, as he put another chest film up. The two x-rays clearly showed that the patient from the film taken a month ago was not the same as the patient with the pneumothorax."

Kelly Brackett became very concerned. The collapsed portion of the lung wasn't too big, but in six hours or longer that could have drastically changed. "So how do we figure out who this is?" he asked, pointing to the film taken that day.

Boot shook his head and sighed. "Well, we can pull every folder on every patient you have seen that matches the parameters of the patient, but if this patient has never been seen here before we won't have anything old to go on."

Dr. Bracket frowned. "Boot, we've seen nearly one hundred and fifty patients in the past twenty four hours. That's going to be a lot of charts to go through, to try to narrow this down."

Dixie, who had been standing quietly, stepped forward. "I think I have seen every patient that has come through here today. Maybe I can pull out a few likely candidates before we look at every patient. What else can you tell us about this patient? You said it was a man so that cuts our search in half right there."

Dr. Bootorabi pointed to the film indicating the different things he was talking about. "Going by the bone density of the ribs and anatomical structure, I can tell you that this is a young man, in his twenties or thirties. He is tall and slender. There doesn't appear to be a tear in the lung, but again that is hard to definitively determine. There are no rib fractures. The pneumothorax could be pathologic in nature, although I see no other radiographic evidence of pathology. However, bear in mind that tall slender men are more prone to spontaneous collapse of the lung than other body types. The left lung looks clear, intact and free of disease. My guess is that this could have been a result of a blunt force trauma, even though there is no evidence of rib fracture, but of course that is only a guess."

Both Dixie and Dr. Brackett's minds immediately began to mentally scan through the scores of patients that had been seen in the ER. Dr. Bootorabi pointed to the bottom of the film now.

"Also, see here near the bottom of the film on the left side you can see what looks like the tip or edge of a surgical clip. That could be indicative of stomach or spleen surgery. Other than that I cannot give you anything more concrete."

That mention of a surgical clip near the spleen and the general description of a tall slender man in his twenties or thirties struck a chord with both Dixie and Dr. Brackett. They looked at each other as the same thought occurred to both of them simultaneously.

"Oh, God, Kel." Dixie said.

Dr. Brackett grabbed the films that the Radiologist had put up and plowed through the exam room door nearly running a very tired Dr. Early over.

"Hey, what's up?" He was surprised to see Dr. Bootorabi fly out of the exam room right behind Dr. Brackett and both followed by Dixie. "Boot, what are you doing here at this hour?"

Dr. Early joined in the procession following Dr. Brackett who went directly to the light boxes in his office where a set of chest x-rays hung and flipped on the light. He pulled down the lateral view and quickly put up the frontal view of the old film Boot had brought of Mr. Clements. They were clearly the same patient. Boot looked at the films and pointed to an old calcification protruding from the lateral surface of the right humorous bone at the level of the shoulder joint space.

"See this calcification? This film is the one taken of Mr. Clements this afternoon." Then Boot looked at the name printed on the film. "So who is John Gage?"

"Damn it! How did I not see this earlier? John is a firefighter and one of my best paramedics. He fell fifteen feet from a roof this afternoon rescuing a two year old child."

The radiologist nodded. "That would cause the injury. Do you know where Mr. Gage is now?"

"That's what I'm about to find out," he said, and he reached for the phone on his desk.

TBC

* A hospitalist is the admitting doctor for the hospital. Once a patient leaves the ER they are then transferred to the care of the hospitalist who is responsible for all in-patients until such time as their own physician takes over their care or they are discharged from the hospital.


	5. Chapter 5

**Checks and Balances**

**Chapter 5**

The need to draw breath brought Johnny out of a deep and dreamless sleep. His eyes flew open and he found himself gasping for air. Adrenaline surged through him; he sat bolt upright clawing at his shirt as primal fear threatened to overcome all reason.

Panic shot through the young man. His vision grayed and he swayed back and forth. Searing pain in his chest was the only thing that kept him from falling back down against his pillow. Instead he wrapped his arms around his chest rocking forward; wondering if this is what dying felt like.

_What the hell?_

Johnny tried to force himself to calm down. He didn't know what was happening, or why.

_Oh, God! Am I dying?_

Johnny had to mentally shake himself.

_Stop this and relax. Where am I?_

Looking around, he recognized the dorm room of the station, which helped to calm him somewhat. He wasn't alone at home without any way to call for help. He tried to slow the shallow panting that passed for breathing, but he couldn't get enough air to truly accomplish that feat. The sight of the dorm room at the station helped him to allow his training to take over. Using his skills as a paramedic, Johnny did his best to focus on the problem at hand while assessing his situation.

Textbook phrases passed through his mind; phrases fleshed out by hands-on training and years of experience. It did little to assuage his fears, but he clamped down on the anxiety, telling himself that staying calm was his only chance of survival. He had to mentally distance himself from his fear.

He could almost hear Dr. Brackett's voice in his head.

_"As paramedics in the field, remember, you are in control of the scene. You have to keep the patient calm, get the information vital to accurately assess the problem, and initiate appropriate first care. Mr. Gage, take a look at the scenario in chapter two. What are your patient's symptoms?"_

Johnny forced himself to slow his breathing as much as he could and tried to evaluate what he was experiencing.

_The patient is having extreme difficulty breathing, but he is still able to draw in some air. Sitting up has eased his breathing if only marginally. He is experiencing crushing pain through the right side of his chest. His skin is cold and clammy and his heart rate is fast; too fast. Respiration is rapid and shallow and his head is spinning._

Fear prickled at the edges of Johnny's consciousness. He was in serious trouble and he knew it.

_First step, get help._

He called out for help, but he didn't have enough air to produce more than a strangled and weak noise.

_Well, that was underwhelming. How did I get in this predicament anyway?_

He was dizzy and confused, but the events of the last sixteen hours began to come back to him.

_I fell off that roof this afternoon. Now I can't breathe and I'm showing all the signs of having a tension pneumothorax._

That thought alone nearly undid his composure. He needed to get help. Now!

Johnny instinctively glanced at his watch. He had been asleep for nearly two hours. He realized that the rest of his shift mates must still be in the day room finishing up the movie. They should be almost done, but if he waited, they would wander into the dorm room to find him already dead.

His heart rate jumped up a notch and his shallow panting grew more frantic. He knew he couldn't wait. He had to get to Roy, and then to Rampart.

_What am I going to do?_

He couldn't call loud enough to attract attention, so he had no other choice but to get to the day room on his own. He swung his legs down off his bunk, feeling disconcerted when his bare feet hit the cold cement floor and he could barely feel them.

_That's bad. Doc, you can add decreased peripheral sensation to that list._

With sheer force of determination and enormous effort he stood up only to have his entire world tilt alarmingly.

_How about some vertigo as well, Doc?_

Johnny nearly fell back down onto his bunk. Somehow, through strength of will and throwing his arms out like a man teetering on a tightrope, he managed to keep himself upright. He moved forward with a shuffling sort of walk, not really sure if his feet were lifting off the floor. Sweat beaded on his forehead and dripped down into his eyes. As he made his way forward, darkness began to encroach upon his peripheral vision and he had to grab hold of the short brick wall beside Roy's bunk to keep from falling. If he went down now, he knew he would never be able to get back up. It would be over, right there on the dorm room floor. He would die alone with his friends only yards away, unknowing until they found him.

_Stop it John! That kind of thinking will get you killed!_

He focused on the divider wall next to Cap's bunk and moved steadily toward it. The pain in his chest was becoming overbearing and wanted to bring him to his knees, but he stubbornly pressed on.

He had made it to the end of the row of bunks as dizziness threatened to take him to the floor.

_I can't do it. I want to, but I can't. God, please help me._

John sent a silent plea to what ever deity might be listening. As positive as he commanded himself to remain, the fact of the matter was he would never make it all the way across the apparatus bay. If he didn't draw the attention of his shift mates he was going to die.

A feeling of helplessness started to grow in his heart. He looked at the door of the dorm room which was a mere ten feet away, but it might as well have been ten miles.

_This is all there is? Really? It can't end like this. I won't let it end like this!_

Even though deep down he knew there was no real chance for him to make it to the day room, he refused to give up. Being impossibly stubborn was one of John Gage's most notable traits, and he would use that to its full advantage. As he looked up again at the dorm room door, an odd thing happened. The sharp cry of a falcon or possibly an eagle rang in his ears, and he shifted his eyes to look for the bird. Instead, he caught site of the alarm pull box next to the door.

The red pull lever was like a beacon of hope. It was his salvation. The errant sound forgotten, he centered all of his attention on that alarm pull box. If he could just make it to the alarm he could call for help. His vision was becoming narrow as cyanosis took hold, but he focused all his remaining strength and attention on that alarm and launched himself straight for it. He reached out with his right hand, noting in the back of his mind that his nails were blue, and closed his fingers around the thin lever as darkness swallowed him whole.

**TBC**

**A/N:** This is a short chapter, but I felt it should be a stand alone scene. I thank everyone who has taken time to read this story and post reviews, or marked it for updates and labeled it as a favorite. It is always gratifying to know that the hard work that goes into a story is appreciated. That is what makes FF authors do what we do.


	6. Chapter 6

**Checks and Balances**

**Chapter 6**

When the in-house fire alarm went off, blaring its warning throughout the station, all five men jumped up from their seats. In the nearly fifteen years that Captain Stanley had been with the fire department he had never had anyone pull an internal fire alarm in one of his stations. They didn't even need to resort to that the time Chet set fire to his skis in the locker room.

Mike was closest to the door leading from the day room to the apparatus bay. He charged out through the door sniffing the air trying to detect the smell of smoke with Chet, Roy, and Marco right behind him. Chet headed toward the Captain's office and the front of the apparatus bay, Roy ran to the front bay doors to open them, and Marco followed behind Mike who headed for the back of the bay and the dorms.

Captain Stanley moved to the radio just as the tones went out for station 10 to respond to the in-house alarm at station 51. Cap was expecting the tones. It was procedure to automatically tone out the nearest available station to any in-house alarm.

"LA, station 51. Hold for status." Cap called, into the mike.

"LA 10-4, station 51."

As Mike rounded the corner behind the squad he saw Johnny lying on his left side on the floor, half in the dorm, half out in the apparatus bay. He wasn't moving.

"Roy, Cap!" Mike thundered, calling attention to the problem. Mike rushed over to Johnny while pointing back at the squad. "Marco! Get the gear!"

Roy ran between the trucks nearly knocking Marco over as he opened the compartment doors of the squad to get the paramedic equipment out. Roy felt his heart leap to his throat as he closed the distance between himself and Marco instinctively knowing that his partner was the problem. He grabbed the drug box and biophone while Marco reached for the oxygen and datascope.

Cap dropped the mike at Stoker's shout and headed toward the back of the bay behind the squad and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of his youngest crew member lying lifeless on the floor. He turned and bolted back to the radio.

"LA, station 51. We have a code I. Dispatch an ambulance immediately."

"10-4, 51."

Cap didn't wait to hear the dispatcher cancel the call to station 10 as he raced back to the dorm and his downed man.

Roy and Marco were at Johnny's side with the equipment within moments and Roy and Mike gently turned Johnny over on his back and dragged him clear of the door.

"He's not breathing, Roy." Mike said, in his ever calm voice.

Roy was grateful for Mike's composure; it helped to ease the storm of fear that raced through him threatening to undo his _own_ professional composure.

"Ambu bag!" Roy ordered. "Set up the O2 tank, and hook it in while I bag him. Marco, take over as soon as you can so I can check him out."

Marco pulled out the mask and hooked it up to the tank while Roy tipped back Johnny's head, noting that the trachea was diverted to the left. Marco placed the mask over Johnny's nose and mouth and depressed the release, forcing air into his lungs. Captain Stanley slid in beside Mike wanting to help, but seeking Roy for guidance.

"We need that shirt off of him." Roy said, as he pulled out his equipment. He handed a pair of scissors over as he continued speaking. "Cap, take the bandage scissors, and cut his shirt off. Make it quick."

Captain Stanley and Mike cut Johnny's t-shirt off while Roy pulled out the stethoscope and listened. Chet busied himself setting up the biophone. The station phone began ringing, but went ignored by everyone present.

Chet called into the biophone, "Rampart this is 51. How do you read?"

Johnny's face was slack, his lips were blue and he was only breathing as Marco forced air into his lungs with the oxygen mask.

"Johnny! Can you hear me?" Roy called to his partner, not expecting an answer. But it was standard protocol, and right now Roy needed to rely on protocols to get through this.

Cap grabbed the drug box from Marco and opened it.

"Rampart, this is 51, how do you read?" Chet called again.

"51, this is Rampart, we read you," came an unfamiliar voice.

Roy grabbed the phone from Chet. "Rampart we have a 26 year old male in respiratory arrest. There is left sided tracheal displacement. We have him on 15 liters of O2. He's cyanotic, diaphoretic, there are no breath sounds on the right, minimal breath sounds on the left. Hold for vital signs."

As he worked Roy couldn't stop the thoughts from assaulting him along with a healthy measure of guilt. All of the symptoms that Johnny had been exhibiting throughout the last few hours suddenly made perfect sense if he had a collapsed lung. Lack of energy, confusion, minimal vocal responses to conversation, and the coughing. Johnny had been slowly suffocating all evening and he didn't see it. "Oh, God."

Captain Stanley looked sharply at his senior paramedic. "What is it, Roy?"

"We need to turn him over. I want to listen to the back of his right side."

Cap and Roy gently turned Johnny onto his left side. Roy placed the stethoscope on the right side of Johnny's back praying that he would hear some sign of breath sounds. Captain Stanley gasped as he saw the extensive bruising across Johnny's back for the first time.

"Nothing," Roy said, as he rolled Johnny back.

"Roy what's wrong with him?" Cap asked in a tone that said Roy had better spill the beans.

"I think his lung has collapsed."

* * *

><p>Nurse Julie Rommel, who had taken the call, grabbed one of the nurses passing by. "We have a possible tension pneumo, find Dr. Brackett STAT."<p>

Dr. Brackett slammed down the phone in his office looking very worried. "No answer. They must be out on a call."

Dr. Early frowned. "Maybe we should get the police involved? Find them, where ever they are?"

"We just may do that, Joe," Brackett agreed grimly. He headed for the door of his office with Dixie, Joe and Boot following behind. As Dr. Brackett stepped out into the hall, one of the ER nurses headed straight for him.

"Dr. Brackett, Miss Rommel is at the base station with a possible tension pneumo."

Dr. Brackett exchanged a glance with Joe. "Johnny!" and took off down the hall toward the base station.

"Rampart, vital signs are: BP 70 over 40, pulse 115 and thready, pupils are dilated and sluggish."

Dixie stepped over to Julie and took the pad of patient info handing it over to Dr. Brackett. "Julie, I want you to set up treatment 1 for a chest tube and endotrachiel tube."

"Right away Miss McCall." the nurse answered, and hurried out of the base station booth to ready the room.

Dr. Brackett heard Roy's voice as he quickly scanned the vitals pad then immediately pressed the transmit button.

"51, this is Dr. Brackett. Is the patient John Gage?"

Roy was relieved to hear Dr. Brackett's voice. "That's affirmative, Rampart."

"How do his lungs sound?"

"I am hearing no breath sounds on the right, minimal breath sounds on the left. The trachea is deviated to the left and the neck veins are prominent."

"Patch him in for a strip, insert an esophageal airway, and continue ventilations at 15 liters."

While Roy inserted the airway, Chet handed the leads to Cap who placed them along Johnny's chest. Once the airway was in place, Mike began with forced ventilations while Roy listened with the stethoscope. He shook his head then grabbed the biophone.

"Rampart, the strip is coming on lead 2. I've inserted the airway but he still isn't moving any air on the right." There was a strained edge to Roy's voice that no one missed.

Brackett looked at the strip coming from the remote EKG and his face grew grim. "Is there an ambulance at your location, 51?"

Roy looked up at Cap knowing that he had called for one. "It will probably be another five minutes, Roy."

Roy closed his eyes as he depressed the transmit button on the phone. "That's negative, Rampart. Ambulance ETA is 5 minutes."

"Five minutes is too long. He isn't going to make it in here. You are going to have to perform a Needle Thoracostomy."

Roy paled and his voice shook. "Rampart, say again."

Dr. Brackett abandoned transmission protocol at this point. "Roy, listen to me. Johnny has a tension pneumothorax. His entire right lung is completely collapsed and from what you've described, his left lung is now being affected because of the pressure. Even if an ambulance was standing by right now it wont matter unless you can relieve the pressure and get air back into his lungs. Johnny doesn't have any more time. He needs you right now, Roy. You can do this, you have to! Set the channel open on the biophone because you are going to need both hands."

Roy looked very unsure of himself, but determined at the same time. He nodded to himself slightly and depressed the open mike button on the biophone. "Okay. What do I need to do?"

"You should have sterile gloves in the trauma box. You'll need those, betadine swabs, sterile gauze, an 18 gauge needle with a 50 cc syringe."

As Roy grabbed and set out all supplies he was going to need he continued to listen to Dr. Brackett's instructions.

"Can you get Johnny elevated? He needs to be upright for this to work properly."

Cap took hold of Johnny's shoulders and raised him up sliding in behind him so the young man was supported in a sitting position leaning against Cap's body. He then placed his hand on John's forehead to hold it up and out of Roy's way.

"Okay, Rampart. I think we're ready." Roy said, as his stomach churned.

"Good, now you need to swab the upper right side of his chest really well with the betadine. You'll be inserting the needle in the second intercostal space between ribs two and three along the mid clavicular line."

Roy tore open the betadine swabs and wiped down Johnny's chest as instructed. Then he opened the sterile gloves and put them on. Chet slid into the space that Cap had occupied at Johnny's other side. He had seen enough MASH type units work out in the field when he was in the Vietnam, and knew that once Roy had those gloves on someone was going to need to hand him the rest of the equipment after opening it just enough for him to take without contaminating his sterile hands.

"Okay, now Roy you need to attach the needle to the syringe, keeping the plunger all the way down. You will want to insert the needle perpendicular to the chest wall at the level of the superior border of the third rib."

Roy looked up at his crew mates. Each man in turn looked back at him with confidence in his ability and nodded to him. Chet had taken the needle's package and opened it halfway allowing the sterile instrument to hang out for Roy to take. He did the same thing with the syringe and Roy screwed the end of the needle onto the syringe.

"Have you found the intercostal space yet, Roy?" Dr. Brackett's voice asked from the biophone.

"Hang on just a second, Doc." Roy used his fingers to palpate Johnny's chest feeling an almost spongy texture to the tissue of John's chest wall. "There is sub-Q air in the chest wall, but yeah I have the second intercostal space."

"Okay now place the needle at the top of the third rib perpendicular to the surface of it. Use the rib's edge as a guide and slowly walk the needle into the chest wall over the superior border of the rib while maintaining negative pressure on the syringe. Once you have entered the pleural space you will need to stop. You don't want to puncture the lung. You'll know you're there when you hear a slight popping sound and feel the needle give way slightly. At that point the syringe will begin to fill with air and maybe a small amount of blood."

Roy had to concentrate in order to keep his hands from shaking. He placed the needle and began to push it through the skin using Johnny's rib to steady the needle. He listened intently and was relieve when he heard the pop that Dr. Brackett had described. He had to hold his hand steady because the needle did 'give way' and he could have easily pushed the needle in too far.

A spurt of bright red blood speckled the inside of the syringe and the plunger began to push out as the syringe filled up with air.

"Got it. The syringe is filling up with air, and a small spatter of blood."

"Okay that's great, Roy. Now remove the syringe keeping the needle steady."

Roy did as instructed and as soon as the syringe was removed from the needle he could feel and hear a soft hissing as air began to evacuate the pleural space through the needle. Roy looked to Chet.

"Take the stethoscope from around my neck and listen to his right side. Tell me what you hear."

Chet did as instructed and a broad smile crept over his face. "I can hear breathing, Roy. It's working."

Roy was still holding the needle in place not quite sure what to do next. "Do I take this needle out now?" he asked.

Dr. Brackett's voice also held a distinct note of relief. "No, Roy, you need to wrap sterile gauze around the insertion point and tape it off. You will have to be very careful even after you secure the needle. As Johnny's lung begins to re-inflate we don't want to cause any injury to it. Once you have done that I need you to set up an IV with D5W and get me a new set of vitals and another EKG strip."

Roy looked once again at Chet and asked him for the gauze which he obediently tore partway open so Roy could grab it and begin to wrap it around the part of the needle entering John's chest. Chet tore off several strips of tape which Roy used to secure around the needle itself, as well as the gauze and taped it all firmly down against Johnny's chest.

Roy set up the IV and took the new set of vital signs and was greatly relieved to report that John's pulse had slowed and strengthened and his blood pressure was up. The blueish ting had left his lips and his color was much better. He was now breathing on his own, but remained unconscious. The ambulance had arrived and the attendants were standing back waiting to load up their patient.

"Make sure the head of that stretcher is up guys," Roy instructed.

With Roy holding the IV Mike grabbed Johnny's feet while Cap took his upper body and they lifted him up and onto the waiting stretcher. Chet closed up the drug box and Marco packed up the biophone. As the gurney was being loaded onto the waiting ambulance Roy turned troubled eyes to his team mates.

"I'll call with an update as soon as I know what's happening."

Cap handed him a handie talkie. "Take this. I'll see if Dywer can come in to take over for John."

All the guys patted Roy on the shoulder or back telling him they would wait for his call. Once the doors to the ambulance closed, Roy turned back to his patient and continued to monitor his vital signs. In the back of his mind Roy knew that eventually the tension, stress and guilt would bring him to his knees, but not right now, not while he had a job to do.

TBC


	7. Chapter 7

**Checks and Balances**

**Chapter 7**

Every bump in the road jarred Roy's nerves. He kept checking the needle in Johnny's chest to be sure it hadn't moved. Roy felt like he should be making fists with his hands to stop them from trembling. Something was nagging in the back of his mind, but he couldn't place what was bothering him. He felt wholly culpable for Johnny's situation. Why had he ignored so many things?

Johnny seemed to be short of breath several times throughout the evening. He had never even touched Mike's fried chicken. He had that short dry cough. Roy suddenly remembered something else. He picked up Johnny's hand and it felt cool, almost cold to the touch. He had noticed that earlier when they went on that last call to the museum. He mixed up the IV bags and missed the turn. Johnny was showing signs of confusion. Then in the dorm room Johnny was moving so slowly and he was obviously in pain. He even admitted to feeling lousy.

These were all symptoms Roy should have paid attention to. He should have put them together; he should have realized that something was very, very wrong! When they found Johnny lying on the floor, looking for all intents and purposes like he was dead, Roy felt the weight of all of these symptoms crash down on him like a boulder. He checked the needle again. Roy had never performed a thoracostomy before and hoped he never would need to again. He had to admit that he must have done it correctly because Johnny's color looked better. Before, he was almost grey with blue tinged lips. Now his color, although pale as a sheet, was no longer grey and the cyanosis had abated somewhat.

Roy listened to Johnny's lungs again and was rewarded with breath sounds, even though they were a bit labored and rattly. Once again Roy felt an uneasy sensation tickling the back of his consciousness, as though there was something else that he was overlooking. Shaking his head he took a new set of vitals and picked up the biophone.

**"**Rampart, this is squad 51."

Dr. Brackett's voice came on right away. "We read you, 51."

**"**Vitals remain stable, but his breathing is labored and I am hearing crackles bilaterally," Roy reported.

As Roy called in the update, he looked over at his partner and no longer saw the fogging of the mask that accompanied breathing. Roy quickly listened to Johnny's chest. "Rampart, the patient has gone into respiratory arrest again."

**"**51, is the esophageal airway still intact?"

**"**That's affirmative."

**"**Force ventilations at 15 liters O2."

Roy had already replaced the regular oxygen mask with the respirator mask as he responded. "10-4, Rampart."

**"**What's your ETA, 51?"

Roy called up to the driver. "Hey, how long before we hit Rampart?"

**"**About five minutes," came the reply.

**"**Too long! Floor it, Hal." Roy heard the engine rev up and felt the increased speed of the vehicle. "Rampart, our ETA is less than 5 minutes."

**"**10-4, 51. We're set up to receive you in Treatment 1."

Roy was still ventilating Johnny when they arrived at Rampart. He was again terrified that he had done something wrong with the thoracostomy, which had in turn caused Johnny to fall into respiratory arrest a second time. As they wheeled the gurney into treatment room 1, Roy was never so glad to see Dr. Brackett and Dixie McCall in his life. He maintained ventilations as the staff moved Johnny to the exam table and pulled him up to the top so that Dr. Brackett could allow his head to fall back off the end - facilitating the removal the esophageal airway and insertion of an endotracheal tube.

**"**Let's get him stabilized, people. One hundred percent O2 until I see a blood gas. Connie, set those leads up for a cardiac rhythm and get me an EKG. Somebody get me a portable chest x-ray, STAT." Brackett directed the frenzy with preternatural calm, his hands working quickly to secure the ET tube in place while his eyes and ears took in all necessary information at once. "Dix, stabilize that needle in his chest. I don't want it moving until I have a chance to see what we're up against."

Roy hooked the IV on the pole, and then stepped back to the corner as the rest of the ER staff worked around the exam table.

Dr. Brackett finished inserting the ET tube and looked up at Roy, "How long was he in respiratory arrest the first time?"

Roy had to stop and think about that for a minute. "I'm not sure. Maybe two or three minutes before we could force some air into the left lung, longer for the right, not until after the thoracostomy."

Brackett did some calculations in his head and mumbled to himself as he adjusted the settings on the respirator. "That could be as much as 6 or 7 minutes. I'll have to review the call recording."

Once Johnny was on the respirator and the lab draw was done, Dr. Brackett moved him to a better position on the table to inspect Roy's handy work.

**"**Nicely done, excellent placement, Roy. You saved his life with this. I couldn't have done it better myself."

Roy seriously doubted that and felt that Brackett was trying to give him a false sense of security, but that did not fit with the normally straight forward doctor who had all the subtlety of a sledge hammer. Dr. Brackett stepped aside to allow the portable x-ray unit that had been standing by to get in so that a chest x-ray could be taken.

**"**I want that film STAT, Jerry."

Roy, Dixie and Dr. Brackett stepped outside the exam room so that the x-ray could be done. Roy moved nervously from foot to foot. "So,if I did the thoracostomy correctly, why did he go into respiratory arrest again?"

Dr. Brackett placed his hand on Roy's shoulder. "There are a number of reasons, but the most likely answer is bronchial spasm. Think about it, Roy. Johnny started out with a partially collapsed lung that got increasingly worse as the evening progressed. It was getting harder and harder for him to breath."

That sensation of something being off screamed at Roy and he felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end.

_How did Dr. Brackett know that Johnny had a collapsed lung that was steadily growing all evening? How did he seem to know what was happening even before Roy could describe all the symptoms?_

Roy was so immersed in his own thoughts that he didn't hear the question that Dr. Brackett asked him until he had to repeat it.

"Roy! What was Johnny doing when he collapsed?" the doctor asked with concern on his face.

**"**He had gone to bed early and must have woken up in distress. He was trying to get to the day room and managed to pull the in-house alarm before passing out."

**"**He was sleeping?" Dr. Brackett asked.

**"**Yeah, like I said, he turned in early. He said he felt lousy, but he wanted to wait until morning to come back in to be checked again. I should have made him come in. This is all my fault."

The look that crossed Dr. Brackett's face made Roy hold his breath for a moment. The man lowered his eyes and looked to the floor. He sighed heavily and placed a hand on Roy's shoulder before lifting his face up and staring Roy straight in the eyes. His voice sounded regretful somehow.

**"**No, it's not." Dr. Brackett paused for a moment as if weighing what he was going to say next. He glanced over to Dixie whose expression was unreadable. "Roy, while Johnny was up and moving the pneumothorax grew in size gradually, but lying down to sleep was the worst thing he could have done. Not only the fact that he was lying down, but when you sleep you breathe more evenly and deeply. With every breath he took more air became trapped in the plural space causing the pneumothorax to get bigger until the entire lung was compromised."

Roy nodded his understanding of the situation, but he wanted answers to address the feeling that was growing in his gut. "I don't understand how he wound up with a collapsed lung in the first place. His x-ray this afternoon was clear."

Dixie and Dr. Brackett exchanged a serious look, which Roy didn't miss. As he opened his mouth to ask what was going on, the door cracked open a bit. "All set, Doc. I'll personally develop this film and bring it to you in a few minutes."

**"**Thanks, Jerry," Dr. Brackett said, as he held the door open so that the x-ray tech could maneuver the machine out of the room.

Roy was about to follow the doctor back into the exam room when the HT he had crackled to life.

**'**_Engine 51 to HT 51, what's your status?'_

Roy didn't want to leave without answers, but his sense of duty overruled desire. "HT 51 available, but down one man."

**'**_We have a structure fire with people trapped at 14th and Delroy. Paramedic relief has arrived and is 10-8 to Rampart, ETA 3 minutes.'_

Roy knew that was it. He would have to leave Johnny in Dr. Brackett's hands. "10-4 Engine 51, en-route to 14th and Delroy."

Roy looked at Dr. Brackett as he turned to enter the treatment room and stopped him with a hand on his shoulder. "Doc, is there something I should know?"

The feeling in Roy's gut was reinforced when Dixie turned away and hurried off to follow the departing x-ray tech. Dr. Brackett nodded his head as if coming to a conclusion.

**"**There is something I need to discuss with you, Roy, but right now I need to get back to Johnny, and you need to get back to work. After this run come and find me."

Roy stood in the hallway just staring after Dr. Brackett as the door to the treatment room closed. He didn't want to believe that the uneasy feeling that had been steadily growing was valid. He wanted more than anything to believe that he was leaving his partner and best friend in capable hands, but now he questioned that. Did he see guilt written across Dr. Brackett's face? Had Brackett missed something? Feeling confused and numb, Roy turned and walked back out to the ambulance bay, trying to piece things together. By the time he stepped out of the bay doors he saw the squad coming out from the walkway overpass and backing into a space just to the left of the doors. Roy jogged over and opened up the passenger side door to see Tom Dwyer driving.

**"**Hey, how's Johnny doing?"

**"**I'm not sure. He's on a respirator and Doc Brackett will need to put in a chest tube."

**"**The guys didn't tell me much when I got to the station," Dwyer continued, as he pulled out to head toward the call the station had been toned out for. "How did he end up with a collapsed lung?"

Roy shook his head. He knew the answer, but was still confused by the fact that the x-ray had been okay. "He fell off a roof this afternoon. We didn't know that anything was seriously wrong. He was checked out here at Rampart and had a chest x-ray before he was cleared to go back on duty."

A frown clouded the senior paramedic's features. Roy was not one to jump to snap judgments about people, especially people he knew and trusted, but something about all of this was wrong. Dr. Brackett's evasive answers had Roy questioning everything he thought he knew about the doctor. Roy had learned over the years of being a firefighter and paramedic to trust his gut, but he didn't like what his gut was telling him. He was tempted to tell Dwyer about his misgivings, but he didn't have the facts and it wasn't his place to second guess the doctors so he kept silent - for the time being.**  
><strong>

**TBC**

**A/N:** I am an X-ray technologist by trade. I have no experience with needle throacostomies nor have I ever seen one done, however, I have done quite a lot of research on the condition described in this story and have used the knowledge of the doctors and nurses I work with as well as a goodly amount of medical research to come up with the description of the procedure as it would occur 35 years ago. That is actually the most difficult aspect of writing E! fan fiction. The medical facts need to be dated. Thank you for the reviews and comments. I am currently without my laptop (it is in for repairs) so I have had to try and work from an old (and I do mean old) computer in our den that I have to fight for time on! Thank you for your patience.**  
><strong>I would also like to thank my good friend Dawn. She has been helping me to find better ways to break these chapters up into more reasonable sizes. This chapter was originally somewhere in the neighborhood of 8,000 words. I do tend to over write almost everything!


	8. Chapter 8

**Checks and Balances  
>Chapter 8<strong>

The fire at 14th and Delroy involved a small white house on the corner of the two streets and was fully engulfed. The engine had arrived first and Roy could see Marco and Chet already trying to knock it down with inch and a half lines while a frantic bystander was speaking with Captain Stanley waving her arms and pointing to the house. Dwyer brought the squad to a stop just in front of the engine and they both hopped out and got into their turnouts and SCBA gear.

**"**We have a man trapped on the first floor, south side." Cap called, out to them as he jogged up to the two paramedics.

Acknowledging the information, Roy and Dwyer ran for the only accessible entrance to the victim, a window on the side of the home. 36s rig soon arrived on scene and prepared to use the snorkel to give aerial support. Getting to the window proved to be a struggle because a willow tree near the side of the home had caught fire and blocked there way.

**"**Cap, we need coverage over here!" Roy called out.

Captain Stanley had Marco and Chet move to the south side as he directed engine 10 who arrived with 36 to take the northern end of the fire where 51's men had been working. It seemed to take inordinately long to dampen the fire raging through the tree along the south wall enough to allow access to the window, but as soon as they saw their chance to move in, Roy and Dwyer darted up to the side of the house.

A quick glance into the window showed the paramedics that a man overcome by smoke was lying face down on the floor not far from an interior door leading into the home. The walls and ceiling were already fully involved. Grim looks were plastered across both men's faces as Dwyer broke the glass with his helmet.

**"**I'll go. Get me some cover!" Tom shouted over the sound of the raging fire.

Within moments he grabbed the window sill and was through the window making his way across the room to the victim.

Roy called out to Marco, "Cover Dwyer's exit. The room could flash!"

The linemen were already in position to direct a powerful stream of water through the window while watching Roy's outstretched hand as he peered in to make sure that the water didn't impede the rescue in progress. This type of exit coverage was tricky, but necessary, a flash-over would be disastrous at this point, not only for Dwyer and the victim, but for everyone.

The water introduced into the burning room created gusts of smoke and steam which billowed out through the open window partially obscuring Roy's view inside. He knew that Dwyer had reached the victim, but he could no longer see either man and directed the linemen to aim the stream at the ceiling. Roy was about to climb through the window himself to go and see what had happened and began to pull himself up when Tom emerged from the smoke dragging the unconscious man behind him.

Roy jumped back down and took a firm grip of the man's shoulders as Dwyer began to feed the limp form through the window. Chet let go of the line and rushed forward to help, grabbing the man's legs as he came out the window. Roy and Chet scrambled back away from the house. Dwyer grabbed the edge of the window sill and quite literally dived through the window landing awkwardly on the ground.

**"**You okay?" Marco shouted coming forward to help the paramedic.

**"**It's gonna flash! Run!" Dwyer shouted.

Marco didn't need to be told twice. He dropped the hose as he grabbed the collar of Dwyer's turn-out and both scrambled away from the house just as the room flashed at the same time the gas line in the structure blew.

Roy, Chet, Marco, Dwyer, and their victim were all thrown to the ground with the shock wave from the explosion. A rolling wave of blistering heat accompanying the deafening blast seared the air above their heads as they lay motionless on the ground. His ears were ringing as Roy pushed himself up to his knees checking on their victim. Chet had managed to protect the unconscious man with his own body. His turnout coat sheltered both men from the fireball that would have rendered flesh from bone had they not been covered. Slowly Marco and Tom shook off the effects of the blast, coming to their knees as well.

Chet wasn't moving and Roy rushed over to him rolling him off the man he was protecting. "Tom! Chet's hurt!"

Dwyer and Marco moved instantly both taking flanking positions by the downed firefighter. Cap ran over to his men having seen them thrown by the explosion and helped Roy to move the fire victim away from danger as Marco and Dwyer dragged Chet.

By the time Chet had been moved to the area next to the squad he was conscious and trying to sit up insisting that he was fine. Dwyer placed a firm hand on his shoulder forcing him back down as he began checking vital signs. All of the men's attention was diverted to the corner when bright sparking from the power pole sizzled through the night air. The explosion from the house had damaged the power pole and the men watched as it teetered and fell landing directly on top of the waiting ambulance creating a new hazard as live power lines draped across the road and over the vehicle.

Both attendants were inside the ambulance and as soon as Cap saw their predicament he shot up and ran a few paces closer to the vehicle with his hands held up in the air calling out as loudly as he could. "Don't move! Stay inside the ambulance!"

The downed pole had a transformer on it that sparked dangerously drawing the attention 10s captain. "Get wire cutters to cut those lines!" Captain Royce Jacobs called to one of his men.

Captain Stanley spoke into his handi-talkie. "LA, Engine 51; we need the power company to cut power to the transformer at 14th and Delroy immediately! Also dispatch two more ambulances to the scene."

**"**10-4, Engine 51."

Roy and Dwyer stayed with the victim from the fire and Chet taking vitals and administering oxygen, while Cap concentrated on keeping the ambulance attendants safe from the dangerous situation with the downed power lines. Much to Cap's dismay it looked like one of the attendants was panicking and he tried to open the door to jump out.

**"**Stop! Stay in the vehicle!" Cap shouted, holding up his hands and trying to draw the man's attention.

The man either didn't hear or was too panicked to listen. The power line was arching and swinging all over the place and to Cap's horror he saw the end of the line slap against the exposed attendant who was half way out of the vehicle.

He could hear the other attendant yelling at his partner to close the door but it was too late for that. The men from station 10 carefully approached the downed pole with long wire cutters. There was a bright flash as the hot power line snaked along the side of the ambulance and came in contact once again with the now unconscious attendant half hanging out of the cab.

Roy, who had been watching the drama unfold, knew immediately that the man would need the defibrillator. "Tom we're gonna need the datascope and defibrillator!"

Chet pushed the oxygen mask from his face and shouted, "Go! I'll be fine."

Dwyer had already come to the same conclusion and ran to the squad to pull out the equipment they would need to treat the attendant. The men from 10 got the power line cut, but there was still the sparking transformer to deal with. The pole was lying across the hood of the ambulance and Cap knew that they couldn't extract their new victim until the transformer had been dealt with. "Marco, get asbestos blankets, enough to cover the transformer!"

Dwyer anxiously waited for the transformer to be covered offering the best protection available until the power could be cut. Once two of the fire resistant blankets had been draped over the still arcing box, he moved with Marco to the driver side of the vehicle. The attendant who was unharmed sat stunned looking over to his partner. "Can I touch him?" The man asked, clearly unsure whether or not it was safe.

**"**You'd better let us take care of him okay?" When the stunned man didn't respond right away Dwyer gently shook his shoulder. "It's okay. It's safe to get out now," he coaxed the man.

Marco led him away to the squad where Roy was talking to Rampart about the fire victim and Chet. He glanced up at the two approaching, "Is he injured?"

Marco got the shocked man to sit on the bumper of the squad. "No, just a little scared." Marco called over his shoulder as he ran back to help Dwyer get the second victim out of the ambulance.

Roy nodded his understanding and spoke into the biophone again. "Rampart we have a third victim who was electrocuted by a downed power line. We are still extracting him from the vehicle, hold for vital signs."

**"**10-4, 51. How is victim number one?"

**"**Vitals remain stable. He is responding to the oxygen and has regained consciousness."

**"**Monitor his airway and breath sounds, continue to administer oxygen and transport as soon as possible. What about victim number two?"

**"**Vitals remain stable, but pupil response is slightly sluggish." Roy said, as he once again forced Chet to lie back.

**"**Aw, come on. Roy. I just got my bell rung is all." The Irishman protested.

**"**And that, Pally, is precisely why you are going in to get checked out." Cap said, with a voice the brooked no argument.

**"**51, monitor vitals and transport as soon as possible. Has victim number three been extracted yet?"

Roy glanced up at Dwyer and Marco as they carried the unconscious man over to the treatment area. "That's affirmative Rampart. Hold for vitals."

Roy had just finished his transmission with Rampart when Dwyer and Marco brought the ambulance attendant over. Roy scooted over and began to open up the defibrillator and datascope while Dwyer checked for a carotid pulse.

**"**Pulse is rapid and weak" he reported.

Marco opened up the man's shirt while Roy checked his blood pressure and respirations. Dwyer attached the heart leads and as soon as a reading came up on the datascope he could see sinus tachycardia, but after only a few moments his rhythm deteriorated and Dwyer called out, "V-fib!"

Roy began CPR while Marco attached the respirator mask and began forced ventilations. Dwyer pulled out the paddles of the defibrillator and began a verbal count. "2, 3, 4... Clear!"

The shock from that paddles brought the man back into a sinus rhythm and Dwyer dropped the paddles and picked up the biophone.

**"**Rampart, our third victim was in V-fib, we shocked him once and he is now in sinus rhythm. We are sending you a strip on lead two, hold for vitals."

While the paramedics worked on the downed ambulance attendant, Cap came over to check on his men. "The fire is under control. How are they," he asked, indicating the victims?

**"**Severe smoke inhalation on our guy we pulled from the house, Chet may have a mild concussion, and the ambulance attendant..."

**"**Roger, his name is Roger." Cap and Roy turned to look at the other ambulance attendant who had regained some composure.

**"**Thanks, pal." Roy said, then turned back to Captain Stanley. "Roger went into V-fib, but we got him back. What is the ETA on the other ambulances?"

**"**It shouldn't be too long now. I called dispatch as soon as the power pole fell."

Cap wasn't wrong, two ambulances arrived at the same time Roy finished with the IV for Roger. They loaded the smoke inhalation victim and Chet into the first ambulance with Roy, and Roger rode in the second ambulance with Dwyer.

Roger's condition went downhill on the ride into Rampart. He ended up in V-fib again and Dwyer began CPR as the ambulance backed into the ambulance receiving bay.***** Dwyer stood up on the rail of the gurney continuing CPR as the man was whisked into one of the nearby treatment rooms. The ambulance with Roy and the less critical victims had arrived first. He had already coaxed Chet into an empty treatment room before handing off the smoke inhalation victim to one of the ER residents.

Roy soon met Dwyer in the treatment room with their electrocution victim. He tapped Dwyer on the shoulder and took over chest compressions as the ER staff worked feverishly trying save the man. After nearly twenty minutes of CPR, shocks, and drug interventions Roger was finally in a stable sinus rhythm.

Dr. Early sent the two tired paramedics on their way and they headed straight to the treatment room where Chet was. The rest of the engine crew had come to the hospital to check on Chet as well as bring the squad so that Roy and Dwyer could get back.

**"**Hey did he make it? The ambulance attendant?" Chet asked, as soon as he saw his shift mates.

**"**Yeah, it was pretty dicey there for a while, but I think he's gonna make it. How are _you_doing?" Roy asked.

**"**Just waiting for my discharge instructions. I'm fine, just like I told ya. I'm cleared to go back on duty."

Cap shook his head. "I'll tell ya, this shift has been something else. I'm glad you're okay Chet. It might have been a little hard to find a replacement for you at this hour."

The door to the treatment room opened as Dr. Brackett stepped in holding a slip of paper. "I'm going to release you, but under the condition that if you experience any symptoms, and I mean anything..." he fixed Chet with an intense stare to emphasize his point, "I want you back here. Considering what happened to Johnny earlier, I'm tempted to keep you overnight for observation as a matter of course..." he held up a hand to stave off the objection that Chet was about to voice "but, since you check out physically and neurologically I'll release you."

Cap spoke up before his lineman could say anything that would cause the doctor to change his mind. "I can assure you, doctor, that I'll drive him here personally if he shows any signs of trouble."

Dr. Brackett looked thoughtful for a moment then nodded and handed the discharge slip to Chet. "I'd still like to see you back after your shift tomorrow to get checked again, just to be sure everything is okay." He turned his attention to Roy, "If you can spare the time, I'd like to speak with you in my office."

Roy looked to Cap who showed a mixture of concern and curiosity in his face. "Just call in your availability when you leave. We'll see you back at the station."

Roy nodded his understanding before he followed Dr. Brackett out of the treatment room knowing full well that Cap wouldn't sleep until he could fill him in on Johnny's condition.

Dwyer stepped out after Roy and fell into step beside him. When they came to the base station Dwyer said, "I'll grab some coffee, see you in a bit?"

**"**Okay, it shouldn't be too long." he called over his shoulder as Dr. Brackett kept on walking toward his office.

Dwyer smiled brightly at Julie Rommel who was just coming out of the base station room.

**"**Hello Tom, I didn't think you were on until tomorrow."

**"**Hey, Jules, I'm Johnny Gage's replacement. How's he doing by the way?"

Julie's eyebrows shot up. "Johnny's here? I wasn't aware of that. Shortly after I came on duty I took a call for a possible tension pneumo, set up the treatment room, but then I got sent to peds because of a staffing problem. I only came back down to the ER about a half an hour ago."

**"**The tension pneumo _was_Johnny." Tom said, with a grim expression.

**"**Oh my, Lord! Oh I'm so sorry. What happened?" The nurse asked.

**"**He fell off a roof today during a rescue." Tom started to explain when Julie interrupted.

**"**The baby that climbed out on a roof this afternoon? I heard rumors about that. That was Johnny who saved the child?"

**"**Um, it sounds like you know more about it than me. All I know is that he fell off a roof and developed a tension pneumothorax as a result. So maybe you can fill me in a little."

**"**I wasn't directly involved because that was the day-shift, but from what I understand a two-year-old girl climbed out a window and got onto the roof of the house. She fell but was caught by a fireman who cradled her against his body when they both fell off the roof. In any case, the child was fine and her mother couldn't stop going on and on about the brave fireman who saved her baby. It was all the day-shift was talking about when I came in."

Tom was duly impressed. "That does sound like our Johnny; so can you find out where he is? I'd like to go check on him."

Julie nodded vigorously. "Sure thing, just go get some coffee in the lounge while I find out where he is and how he's doing."

Dwyer poured himself a cup of coffee and sat down on the sofa. Before he knew it he had closed his eyes and started to drift off but came abruptly awake when the hot liquid slopped onto his hand and leg.

**"**Crap!" He got up quickly and discarded the coffee before making his way back out to the nurse's station.

When he arrived, Julie was there looking agitated and that only got worse when she saw the paramedic approaching. Dwyer got a very bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. "Jules, what is it? What's wrong?"

Julie looked around as though making sure no one would over hear her. "Tom we've known each other for a long time and you know I would do just about anything for you, but I really can't talk to you about... about who you asked about."

**"**What do you mean, Jules? I'm only asking about a patient Roy brought in, and a fellow fireman. I'm not some nosy stranger ya know, and I'm starting to get a very bad feeling about all this."

Once again Julie glanced from side to side then she leaned over and spoke quietly. "All I can tell you is that John Gage is not a patient in the ER, not now." She smiled a sad smile at Tom. "I'm sorry, Tom, I really can't say anything else. All I know is that something happened, and the administration higher-ups are in a fit. The staff has been given strict instructions not to discuss anything about Johnny to anyone except his immediate next of kin."

Dwyer paled slightly at that. "Johnny doesn't have any immediate next of kin. He had an aunt, but she passed about a year ago I think. Jules, is he... did he die?"

Julie looked at Tom clearly frustrated by all of this. "No, I don't think so. I went down to the morgue when I couldn't get an update on his condition and he isn't there. George likes me and he let me take a peek at all the new clients."

**"**George? Clients? Jules, what are you talking about. Who is George?"

**"**George Weinman is the coroner. He always calls new additions to the morgue 'clients'. Coroners are an odd bunch, but the point is, something is up and the administration is very nervous about it."

She patted his hand that rested on the desk. "I'm sorry I can't tell you more, but honestly I don't know any more than what I've said already, and that could get me fired." She slid her hand away from Tom and moved off to the treatment room to join Dr. Early with his patient.

**TBC**

***** There are two places that a defibrillator cannot be used. In a helicopter and the back of a moving ambulance although the risk is lower in the ambulance than in a helicopter. I only recently discovered this. If you try to defibrillate in a helicopter while in flight you could easily crash the aircraft. In an ambulance there are also issues with electrical interference but not as severe due to the rubber tires, but it is not advised to use the paddles while in transport. Today the AED devices are acceptable to use in an ambulance. The charge is lower and due to the way it is set up it doesn't interfere with the electrical system of the vehicle the same way defibrillator paddles would. Again something I recently learned when we had an unstable cardiac patient who needed to be transported to one of the big city hospitals. We couldn't call Life Flight because even using the AED isn't safe when in the air. They did however have the AED attached to her for transport in case she went into V-fib a fourth time while she was being transported to the city hospital.

**A/N:** DHall has also started looking at my chapters and is helping me to break them up a little. I may have already said that, but I want to thank her as well as my two trusted betas for this story.


	9. Chapter 9

**Checks and Balances**

**Chapter 9**

It was close to 1:30 in the morning when Roy and Dr. Brackett entered his office. Roy took a seat as the doctor closed the door. All at once the doubts that Roy had came rushing back. He felt a mixture of fear, frustration, and even anger waring in his heart for dominance. There was no doubt that the senior paramedic had a plethora of questions rocketing around in his mind, but he held them all at bay and waited to hear what the head of the ER had to say. Dr. Brackett walked over to his desk, but as he passed the light boxes he flipped one of the switches to on. Roy's eyes were drawn to the x-rays hanging there turning a questioning frown to the doctor.

"Roy, I spent an hour fighting with administration over this. They don't want me discussing this situation with anyone, but that is not how I see it. Johnny is your partner and you and the fire department are the closest thing he has to family so in my opinion you have a right to know what happened today."

Roy felt like a balloon had burst inside of him. Something really had happened and it sounded serious. Roy couldn't keep the expression off his face. Dr. Brackett seemed to be studying him and he nodded slightly.

"I understand that you have questions, and I'm sorry I was so cryptic with you earlier, but honestly I needed to tend to Johnny and you had a call. Now I want you to take a look at that set of films."

Roy stood up and walked over to the light box and looked at the chest x-ray hanging there. He had no idea how to interpret what he was seeing. He could tell what the lungs, heart and ribs were, but he was no doctor. All he did know was that the answer to everything would be revealed by those images. Once again Roy began to feel doubt. Had Brackett actually missed something?

Dr. Brackett stepped over and joined Roy at the light box. "These are the films that you and Johnny brought back from radiology this afternoon."

Roy glanced down and saw the bottom corner where the name was and could clearly see Johnny's name there. Again he looked at the film and traced the lung edge with his eyes. He couldn't see anything wrong, but he really wasn't adept at reading the images. Dr. Brackett then flipped another switch which lighted up a different set of films. Roy's eyes opened wide at what he saw and suddenly everything fell into place. The other x-rays showed a set of lungs that were longer and it was clear that the patient was more slender than the set labeled with Johnny's name. Roy's eyes traced the contours of the right lung on the second set of films and he could see a distinct difference near the top.

"The films were mislabeled!" Roy said, as comprehension dawned. A thought occurred to Roy. "When did you find out about this?"

"Our chief radiologist came into the ER at quarter to eleven with Johnny's films marked with the wrong name. It took us a little while to piece together who the films belonged to. As soon as I realized it was Johnny I called the station, but by then you were already on the biophone with the base station."

Roy swiped his hand down his face and sat back down sighing. "Man, I... I'm sorry."

Dr. Brackett turned to Roy and frowned. "Sorry? Roy, what are you sorry for?"

"When I was here earlier, I had a feeling that something was off. Dixie left so quickly after the x-ray tech took the picture and you had a peculiar look on your face. I'd been thinking that you'd made a mistake. I didn't want to believe it, but I really was thinking that because it was so busy today that... well, it doesn't matter because it turns out it was a mix up in radiology."

Dr. Brackett's mouth twitched slightly. "I _did_ make a mistake, Roy. Look at those two films. I have seen x-rays of Johnny on a number of occasions including the last departmental physical three months ago. I should have realized that the films I was looking at belonged to someone else."

Roy's stood up again stepping over to the light boxes and looked at the two different films on the view box. When they were placed side by side it was clear that Johnny's chest x-ray was longer and thinner than the other. The problem Roy had with the doctor's logic was that without them being right next to each other, how would anyone know? He himself had viewed the mislabeled films and assumed they were Johnny's. He never even questioned it.

"You were brought x-rays that had Johnny's name on them. You looked at the films and made a decision based on that information. Why were you supposed to keep this from me?"

"Isn't that obvious, Roy? The administration wants to keep this very quiet. I was asked to bring the films." Bracket cleared his throat. "Both sets up to the administration suite in the morning. That isn't going to happen. I don't want these films to go missing so they will remain right here in my office under lock and key."

Roy was stunned that Brackett would suggest some kind of cover up. "You really think that the films would disappear? It was a clerical error, or a processing error, or whatever, but it was just an error. They happen sometimes."

"That error nearly cost a man his life, Roy. The administration is worried about legal repercussions and I am concerned that they may be looking for a scapegoat."

Roy looked puzzled by that statement. "A scapegoat? Is someone going to lose their job over this? How did this happen anyway?"

Brackett sighed deeply. "That is the mystery. Johnny's films were taken by one tech and Mr. Clements films were taken by another tech, each of them working in their own room. There is only one darkroom in that control area so both sets of films were developed by the same darkroom tech, but this is a man who has worked here at the hospital for nearly 20 years and he has never mixed up ident cards and films before. He has a system of doing each exam separately to avoid just such an occurrence. The only time the films and ident cards were in the same place at the same time was when the films were set on the counter in the control area outside the darkroom, but one set of films was on one counter while the other set was on a different counter."

Dr. Brackett shook his head and sighed. "I even went down to radiology control to see how things were set up. The darkroom sits between two of the x-ray exam rooms; the ones that were used to take Johnny and Mr. Clements' studies. There is a counter along the left wall that is next to one of the exam rooms and the same holds true for the other side of the area. As the x-ray techs finished their exams they put the films they took with their ident cards and placed them on the counter next to the room they were working in. The only explanation that anyone can think of is that somehow the cards were knocked off of the counters and onto the floor and when they were put back they were put with the wrong sets of film cassettes. It's a reach but I cannot for the life of me figure out how else the mix up could have happened."

Roy followed what Dr. Brackett was saying and could clearly picture the scenario. "Does anyone beside the x-ray techs or darkroom tech work in that area?"

Dr. Brackett shrugged his shoulders. "I honestly have no idea. The radiology administrator along with the hospital administration are conducting an investigation to try and figure out what happened. What concerned me was something that was said about you actually."

Roy paled slightly. "Me?"

Dr. Brackett stood up and took the x-rays off the view box and slid them into a large manila x-ray envelope as he spoke. "There was some talk of an investigation into the thoracostomy performed by a paramedic."

Roy was shocked by this news and a little angry. Before he could say anything Dr. Brackett continued, obviously seeing the emotions play across his most senior paramedic's face. "There is no need to worry, Roy. You're covered; by me! You were acting under my direct orders and I will not let anyone try to serve you up as a way to get around the hospital's culpability in this situation. Besides, if anyone should take the blame, it should be me. I am the one who cleared Johnny for duty. It was my responsibility to know what I was looking at, and no matter what happens, the buck stops here."

Roy didn't know what to say. Dr. Brackett is the one who cleared Johnny for duty, but he had been given the wrong films. That really wasn't Dr. Brackett's fault, but he didn't know whose fault it was; maybe no one's. It was human nature to want to blame someone. He felt angry that he had nearly lost his partner and best friend over some stupid error, but people make mistakes. He had made plenty over the course of the years. Even in this situation Roy was at fault. He had made a mistake by passing off or ignoring symptoms that he should have recognized. Maybe the hospital should be investigating him, and asking why he didn't realize that there was a problem in the first place.

Dr. Brackett tapped Roy's arm bringing him out of his thoughts. "Roy, you all right?"

"How is he?" Roy asked, to divert attention away from him and back to Johnny where he felt it belonged.

"He's in the ICU. I took him off the respirator once the chest tube was inserted and his right lung began to re-inflate. I don't want him to become dependent on it. The danger of another bronchial spasm is minimal now, but he still needs to be closely monitored."

Roy could see a slight twitch in the corner of Dr. Brackett's mouth. He had known the doctor long enough now to realize that he was holding something back. "So he's breathing on his own. Is he awake, can I see him?"

Dr. Brackett sighed as he flipped the light switch off on the view boxes. "He isn't awake, Roy. He's in a coma."

Despair washed over Roy like a wave making his knees go weak and he moved to sit down. "A coma?"

All of his training hadn't prepared him for the onslaught of medical facts that battered his brain; oxygen deprivation, hypoxia, brain damage, coma, death. Roy was once again pulled from his morose thoughts when Dr. Brackett placed a hand firmly on his shoulder.

"Roy, you have to remain positive. Johnny could wake up in the next five minutes, or..."

Roy wasn't fooled by the false hope that Dr. Brackett wasn't pulling off very convincingly. "...or he may never wake up, and if he does, will he have brain damage?"

"I can't answer that, Roy. I reviewed the tape of the call. From the time you first contacted the base station to the insertion of the thoracostomy needle it was 6 minutes and 53 seconds. During that time you were forcing ventilations and even though he wasn't really moving any air, he was still getting some oxygen. You found him right away after he collapsed because he pulled the internal alarm. He was hopefully only anoxic***** for 2 or 3 minutes at most."

A small glimmer of hope blossomed in Roy's chest. Johnny had obviously been conscious when he made his way from his bunk to the alarm pull. "Can I see him?"

"The nursing staff have been given strict instructions that only the next of kin are allowed to see him or be given any information about him, but I'll take you up to ICU myself. You'll only be able to stay for a couple of minutes though."

"That'd be great, Doc. I can't stay long anyway. I'm still on duty."

Johnny was a sorry sight to behold. A sheet was pulled up just past his waist leaving his chest bare. The room was quite warm which seemed oddly in contrast to any other time Roy had visited the ICU. Chest leads for the heart monitor were taped across his upper chest with ground leads at the bases on either side of his ribs. A chest tube firmly taped in place, where the needle thoracostomy had been earlier and attached to a suction collection unit was a gruesome reminder of how close they had come to losing him. His color was much better than it had been the last time Roy had seen him, but his unnatural stillness was unnerving. Johnny was always in motion even when he slept, tossing and turning most nights.

"Can I have a minute with him?" Roy didn't even turn around when he asked, he just moved forward and took a hold on a limp hand as Dr. Brackett moved out of the room silently.

"Johnny, you have to pull through this. I should have seen what was happening. Dr. Brackett thinks it's his fault, but he wasn't with you all day;_ I was_. I'm so sorry, Pally." His voice trailed off into a whisper and he closed his eyes offering up a silent prayer to whatever God might hear him. "I'll come back in the morning to see how you're doing."

Dr. Brackett stepped back into the room and took Johnny's chart from the end of the bed, but addressed Roy before he opened it up and looked through it.

"Roy, you look exhausted. I know how long this day has been. Go back to the station and get some rest. He'll still be here in the morning."

"What about you, Doc. You're past a 24-hour shift at this point aren't you?"

"Not to worry. I plan to catch some sleep in my office. That couch is a lot more comfortable than it looks. I'm not going anywhere until Johnny is moved out of ICU."

Roy stepped away from the bed and turned to leave, but as he passed Dr. Brackett he stopped and spoke without looking at the doctor. "This wasn't your fault, Doc. You're not going to do Johnny any good if you're too tired to function."

Roy could hear the smile in Dr. Brackett's voice. "Hey, that's my line! Get out of here hose jockey!"

**TBC**

***** Hypoxic-Anoxic Brain Injury - **http: / . com/releases/2006/08/060824224201 . htm **(Take out spaces to follow address to research)

It is now known that a mild hypoxic condition prior to anoxia actually protects the brain from more serious injury by triggering the release of specialized proteins HIF1 and PHD2 that protect the brain cells from a full anoxic episode. For definition: Hypoxic refers to a partial lack of oxygen; anoxic means a total lack of oxygen.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **I am finally finishing this story, but in going back through it I found that a mistake had been made. I researched two different dialects of the Ojibwe language and the wrong one got placed into this chapter so I am changing it to the dialect that is more suitable to the area I have designated as the reservation Johnny grew up on in Montana. Later today (January 1st 2014) I will be posting the next chapter and that will give the answer as to what Johnny was saying when he was delirious.

**Checks and Balances**

**Chapter 10**

It was 2:30 in the morning when Roy backed the squad into the apparatus bay. Dwyer went straight to his bunk while Roy headed out to the kitchen having seen a light on; knowing that Captain Stanley would be waiting to hear about Johnny. As he anticipated, Cap was sitting at the kitchen table with the log book entering calls for the engine and looked up when Roy went to the refridg to get a glass of milk.

"How's John doing?" Cap got straight to the point.

Roy took a seat feeling more tired than he had in a very long time even though he seriously doubted he would get any sleep once he hit his bunk. "He's off the respirator and breathing on his own, but he's in a coma."

Cap looked carefully at Roy before closing the log book and pushing it to the side. "What aren't you saying? I know a coma is bad, but there's more isn't there?"

_'Am I that transparent?'_ Roy just shook his head, this was Cap; he could read each of his men like a book. "He went without adequate oxygen for a long time, Cap."

"It couldn't have been that long, Roy. We got to him as soon as the in-house alarm went off."

"That's true, but all evening long he wasn't getting enough oxygen. He had the pneumothorax for hours before he collapsed." Dismay colored the senior paramedic's voice as guilt once again assaulted his heart and mind.

Confusion rippled over Cap's face as he shook his head. "Now hang on, didn't John have an x-ray this afternoon? I'm no expert, but shouldn't a collapsed lung show on an x-ray?"

Roy stood up to take the glass he had been drinking out of over to the sink to wash out. "Yeah, it did, only Dr. Brackett didn't look at Johnny's x-rays when he cleared him for duty. Somehow Johnny's films got mixed up with another patient and were labeled wrong. Dr. Brackett found out about the mixup just before we found Johnny. He said he called the station, but by that time we were already contacting the base station at Rampart after he had collapsed."

Roy understood the shocked expression on his captain's face. He imagined he had a very similar expression when Dr. Brackett told him about the miss-marked films. "That isn't all."

Cap rubbed his hand down his face bracing for what could be coming next. "There's more?"

"Yeah, you should probably know that the hospital is conducting an investigation, actually a couple of investigations. The fire department brass will probably be getting a call tomorrow. Dr. Brackett seems to think they are looking for someone to blame and the fact that I preformed a thoracostomy was mentioned."

Cap no longer looked shocked. Stunned was a more accurate description, until that morphed into something that more closely resembled anger. "You were acting under Dr. Brackett's direct orders! You saved John's life with what you did. How in blazes can they dump this on you? It isn't your fault that the hospital mixed up the x-rays."

Cap's voice never rose in volume, but it became steadily harder and more infused with righteous indignation with each word.

"Dr. Brackett told me not to worry. He made sure everyone knew that he is taking full responsibility, but with an official investigation I'm sure everyone here will have to give statements."

Roy walked back over to the table and sank down into his chair. "Honestly I still feel responsible. Dr. Brackett thinks that it is ultimately his fault for not realizing that the x-ray he was looking at wasn't Johnny's, but I was with him all day. I was the one who should have seen the signs. I'm a paramedic, the most senior paramedic in the county since Stoney moved on to become a captain. Hell, I'm the only guy in the entire department who actually went through the training program twice when we brought the second class through. I knew something was seriously wrong! I knew it, Cap, but I let it go because I trusted Dr. Brackett, and because Johnny..."

Anger at himself flared up in Roy's gut and he slapped his hand down on the table, ignoring the stinging pain that came along with the action. "Damn it! He told me that he felt lousy. He asked me to take him back to Rampart, but he wanted to wait until morning because they were still so jammed up. I don't know, Cap. We both trusted that Dr. Brackett made a good call when Johnny was cleared for duty. I know it isn't right or even fair, but there's a part of me that wants to blame Dr. Brackett."

Roy half expected Cap to admonish him for knowing better like he had that afternoon, but his commanding officer's voice was calm and reasonable. He took on a tone that was meant to diffuse Roy's tension rather than to accuse him.

"Roy this isn't Dr. Brackett's fault. He was given information that was incorrect and came to a conclusion based on that erroneous information. This isn't your fault either. You may be the most senior paramedic in the county, but Johnny is also a paramedic, and a damned good one; second only to you. _He_ was the one experiencing these symptoms, these signs that you think you should have seen, yet didn't recognize them either. If he didn't pick up on it, why should you? Look, Roy, the fire department as well as the hospital have systems of checks and balances in place to prevent mishaps like this, but those systems aren't completely fool proof, and unfortunately Johnny fell through the cracks."

Roy knew that Cap was right. He didn't blame Dr. Brackett, and in his heart he didn't really blame himself. He just desperately wanted to take the whole day back to do over again. Dropping his head down he spoke quietly.

"I'm worried; what if he never wakes up? Or worse, what if he _does_ and he isn't the same. Prolonged periods of hypoxia and even a short period of anoxia can cause permanent brain damage. We may have already lost him."

Roy started when Captain Stanley sat up straight pushing the chair he was sitting in back; the legs scraping the floor.

"Thinking the worst will accomplish precisely nothing, Roy. I have read that people in comas can hear those around them, and when they wake up they can recall whole conversations while they were unconscious. If you don't believe that John will recover, it'll show in your voice and he then won't believe it either. John trusts you more than anyone he knows; that's a plain and simple fact. You have to stay positive for his sake as well as your own.

Look, Roy, I'm no doctor and I don't know anything about hypoxia or anoxia, but what I _do_ know is that John Gage is strong. He has managed to beat the odds many times. He beat that monkey virus, and getting bitten by a rattle snake. He has broken his leg more than once, was hit by a car and lost his spleen, and still he made it through all of that. He has the entire department behind him and we _will_ remain positive."

Cap stood up and grabbed the log book. "Come on, Pally, it's ridiculously late, and you're exhausted. You've been going all day; you need to get some rest. Go get some rack time, and you can consider that an order."

Cap's words bolstered Roy's spirit. He was right, Johnny had beaten the odds so many times before, there was no reason to doubt he wouldn't again. "Thanks, Cap. I guess I just needed to hear it from someone else."

* * *

><p>Roy did fall asleep despite his concern that he wouldn't, but the morning tones came too soon. Coffee helped to get him moving a bit, but his fatigue still showed even after his third cup. Naturally all of his shift mates wanted to know how Johnny was doing and remembering Cap's words he reported that Johnny was off the respirator and breathing on his own. He didn't mention his fears about possible brain damage because as Cap pointed out it wouldn't accomplish anything to do so. Before the next shift began to filter in Cap called Roy into his office.<p>

"I just got off the phone with the Battalion Chief. They were contacted by some suit over at Rampart about John's injury yesterday. I told him what happened including the mistake with the x-rays and that Dr. Brackett was going to back you 100%. He doesn't think it will amount to much and that this is just posturing on the part of the hospital, but you were right about them insisting on a formal investigation. An investigator is being sent over to interview you, but the brass won't allow that to happen unless you have the department's lawyer present so he is also on his way in."

Roy sat down feeling slightly light headed. Somehow it seemed more real now than it did yesterday, especially with headquarters sending over the departmental lawyer. The thought of losing his certification made his heart race. Cap must have seen the doubts fly across Roy's face.

"Now, Roy, I don't want you to worry about this. You did nothing wrong and all of us will back you up on that. The chief assured me that the interview is more of a formality to cover the department. You have _nothing_ to worry about."

Roy still felt uneasy despite Cap's assurances and he knew he wouldn't rest easy until it was over. "Yeah, sure, Cap. When will they be here?"

"From what I understand, within the next hour. This investigator may want to interview all of us so I am going to let the guys know what's going on. Why don't you give Joanne a call and let her know that you might be a little late getting home this morning? I assumed you would be stopping by Rampart after you leave here anyway."

"Yeah, that's a good idea. She doesn't know anything about this yet."

Roy used the phone in the office while Cap went to the kitchen to fill in the rest of the crew on the situation. Roy didn't get into any details with Joanne, only telling her that Johnny was injured yesterday afternoon and that he needed to stay to complete an incident report before going to the hospital to check on him. He wanted to wait to give her all the details after the interviews were done and he had some idea if his job was in jeopardy.

As he walked out to the kitchen he heard Chet exclaim loudly, "That's a load of crap!"

"I agree with you, Chet, but getting hot under the collar isn't going to help, and it could be detrimental. I want everyone to be courteous to this investigator and give him your statements in a clear and professional manner, is that clear?"

The men stopped speaking as Roy come in and sat down. After a moment of awkward silence each of them voiced their support and conviction that he was in no way responsible for what had happened to Johnny, and that he had, in fact, done a superior job and saved their fellow crewman's life. What Roy had not expected was to have Dixie show up just before the investigator with a cassette tape in hand.

"Hey, guys. Kel would have been here, but he needs to be at the hospital taking care of Johnny right now so I'm here as an expert witness to this _farce_ and I have the tape of the call right here." She said holding up the small cassette tape.

As Dixie spoke the Battalion Chief and the department's lawyer walked in through the back door of the kitchen. Only a few minutes after that, the hospital's investigator arrived and Roy, Cap, the Chief and the lawyer moved off into Cap's office while the next shift filtered in asking questions about what was going on.

The tape that Dixie provided was the first thing to be played and as Roy listened to it he felt a lot more secure. He truly hadn't done anything wrong and there was no way the hospital could find fault with his actions. Both the Battalion Chief and the lawyer nodded in satisfaction after hearing the tape. In their eyes the interviews were unnecessary, but the investigator stubbornly insisted on them. It didn't take long. The wind had been knocked out of his sails effectively when the tape had been played, but he still had to show that the interviews had been conducted when he returned to the hospital administration with his findings.

Within thirty minutes all of the men from the crew had given their statements and the investigator left with very little to say to anyone. The men of A shift stood around talking about how ridiculous the investigation of Roy was, still not knowing about the x-ray mix-up. Chet, never known for subtlety blurted out the question that was on everyone's mind.

"Why are they picking on Roy anyway? The hospital has never questioned what the paramedics do before. It almost seemed like they were looking for some kind of patsy."

Roy, Dixie and Cap all exchanged looks but said nothing. The departmental lawyer stepped forward and cleared his throat. "Mr. ... Kelly, is it?" Chet nodded. "That is not something that I want any of you men to discuss. There are aspects of this incident that you are unaware of and outside discussion of it is inappropriate until such time as the department closes the case."

Chet stood mutely as he was chastised, but said nothing else while the brass left the building along with Dixie. Roy ducked out of the kitchen and headed to the locker room. He needed to get changed and head over to the hospital, but was followed by the rest of his shift mates. Chet being Chet completely ignored what the department's lawyer said about not discussing the situation with Johnny.

"So here's what I think. Someone over at Rampart totally screwed up and that is why they are coming after Roy."

Before Chet could continue Marco interrupted him. "Chet, you heard the lawyer. We aren't supposed to discuss this."

Chet turned to his friend and fellow linesman. "I don't care!" He looked Mike in the eye and turned to make sure that Roy was also listening. "This is Johnny! He's one of us, he's our boy! I'm not gonna be told who I can talk about and who I can't!"

Roy watched as both Marco and Mike nodded in agreement with Chet. All of them turned to look at Roy as he buttoned up his shirt.

"Well, how about it, Roy. What really happened. You must know something since your interview was private and we were all talked to out in the day room." Mike asked.

Roy closed his locker and sat on the bench. "Yeah, something happened all right. Somehow Johnny's x-rays got mixed up with another patient. He was walking around yesterday with a collapsed lung."

The men just stood with stunned expressions on their faces, but it was Mike who spoke what they were all thinking. "How is that possible, Roy? Wouldn't he have been in pain or have some serious difficulty breathing or something?"

Roy had to take a deep breath to keep his emotions under control as his feelings of guilt began to surface. "There were signs, it's just that neither Johnny or I realized it. You all saw how bruised up his back was. Any pain that he felt he associated with that. He kept coughing, just a short dry cough. I noticed it a couple of times, but we were always doing something at the time, like bandaging up your hand, Marco. I thought it was the oil burning that he was standing right next to that was causing him to cough. On that last run we did together, a diabetic patient, he mixed up the IV bags, then he missed a turn off of Fairfax. The hypoxia was causing him to lose concentration, but it had been such a long day that we both chalked it up to being over tired."

"Man, if that doesn't beat it. I feel kind of bad about razing him, you know about falling off the roof. We thought he was okay, ya know." Chet looked miserable with the memory of giving Johnny a hard time at dinner the previous day.

"Don't worry about it, Chet. Listen, guys I'm gonna stop by the hospital and see how he's doing, if they'll let me in to see him."

"Why wouldn't they?" Marco asked.

"As of last night, they weren't giving out any information about Johnny to anyone who wasn't next of kin. Dr. Brackett took me up to ICU himself or they wouldn't have let me in."

Mike was nodding. "Maybe the hospital administration is worried that Johnny will sue the place if he finds out about the mix up with his x-rays."

"He'll find out, Brackett will see to that. Brackett's taking the administration on about this. Why else do you think Dixie showed up this morning with that tape?" Roy reasoned.

"Give us a call when you find out how he's doing okay, and when they will allow him to have visitors." Marco added.

"Okay, I will. Thanks, guys, and I'll call you when I know something." Roy grabbed his bag and headed out of the locker room.

* * *

><p>The drive to Rampart wasn't too terribly long. It was still morning, but past the rush hour traffic. When he puled into the visitor's lot he headed straight for Dixie's desk. She was just coming out of the base station booth. "Hey, Dix. I want to thank you for coming down to the station with that tape. It really helped."<p>

"It's not a problem, Roy. I'm glad it helped. Hey I knew you would be coming in this morning and I'm glad you're here. Kel is up with Johnny right now."

Her expression turned serious which set off alarm bells for Roy. "Is he okay?"

"He spiked a fever last night; a pretty high one." She reached out and touched his arm gently. "Roy, he had a febrile seizure this morning. I didn't say anything earlier because you needed to deal with that idiot from administration. Come on I'll take you up there."

Roy felt his heart rate speed up. Febrile seizures in adults were rare, and dangerous. When Johnny had that monkey virus three years ago he never had a seizure and his temperature got as hight as 105.

The ICU was a flurry of activity; most of it centered around Johnny's room. As Dixie approached with Roy she waved off a severe looking charge nurse who appeared at though she was about to challenge Roy's presence. Roy could see Dr. Brackett looking over the chart at the end of Johnny's bed and talking with one of the nurses. As he approached he felt his heart sink when he overheard the conversation.

"Why wasn't I informed the minute there was a change in his status?" Dr. Brackett growled at the nurse. He was clearly livid that after looking at the chart.

"I was going to have you paged, but had to attend to another patient." The nurse informed in slightly miffed at his tone.

"That is not good enough! There is no reason you couldn't have had one of the orderlies or aides page me. I left strict instruction to have me paged the instant there was any change with this patient. The chart said that he spoke, what did he say? How long was he awake?"

"He woke up?" Roy said from the door.

Both the nurse and Dr. Brackett turned at the sound of his voice. "Roy, I'm glad you're here. According to this chart Johnny woke up enough to say something." He turned back to the nurse who had stepped back a pace to put some breathing room between herself and the doctor.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. He never regained consciousness, and still isn't responsive to stimuli, but you were paged as soon as the seizure began. Mr. Gage has been mumbling on and off for the past few hours, but he also isn't making any sense. I'm afraid it may be some form of dysphasia. I found a tape recorder so I could get a recording of it. I thought the speech pathologist might want to hear it."

Dr. Brackett's eyebrow rose in surprise. "What did it sound like?"

"Nothing. Just syllables that don't make any sense strung together. It's the oddest case of dysphagia I have ever come across." She reached over to the rolling table and picked up a small tape recorder, hitting the play button. "He keeps saying the same set of syllables over and over or some variation of them. Like I said it's strange."

_'Ningotaaj... wiiji `ishin Nindedem... wiijayaaw Nindedem... gi-zaagi` ina Nindedem wiijayaaw' *_

The voice was breathy and weak, but it was clearly John Gage's voice. Dr. Brackett stopped the tape and thought for a moment, then rewound the tape and listened again. After hearing it for a second time he looked up at Roy. "Johnny grew up on a reservation didn't he?"

"Uh, yeah, out in Montana." Roy replied, as he moved closer.

"He would have grown up hearing whatever the native language of his tribe is. That isn't dysphagia, it's a language." Once again Dr. Brackett looked to Roy for answers. "Did you know he could speak a native tongue?"

"No, I had no idea. He's never spoken anything but English to the best of my knowledge. He doesn't talk much about his childhood on the reservation, just bits and pieces. All I know is that they were pretty poor on the reservation and that he isn't too crazy about anthropologists."

Roy looked over at Johnny and could see cooling measures in place. His face and neck were flushed and he was dripping with sweat. "He had a seizure? Is he going to be all right?"

Dr. Brackett set the recorder down on the table and stepped over to Roy turning him away from the room and guiding him to the hallway to give the staff room to do their jobs. Dixie patted Roy's arm. "Roy, I have to get back down to the ER. Come see me if you need anything, okay?"

Roy just nodded and mumbled his thanks to her before turning back to Dr. Brackett. "What's got his temperature up?"

"He has a severe infection of the plural lining. Without a spleen he is more susceptible to infection, and it isn't so uncommon with what he had been through. He spiked the fever in the overnight hours even though he was on a broad spectrum antibiotic. I've changed the antibiotic to something stronger and it does seem to be working. His fever got up to 104.5 and caused him to have a convulsion around 8 this morning. I ordered phenobarbital and that got the seizing under control. His temperature has begun to come down, but is hovering around 103, so we are going in the right direction."

"So what about the coma? What about possible brain damage. I mean if he's speaking, even if we can't understand what he's saying, isn't that a good sign?" Roy clung desperately to the hope that Johnny was going to beat the odds yet again.

"It's still too early to say that. I'm sorry, Roy. He is still unresponsive to stimuli, but I think the fever brought on a state of delirium and that is what prompted him to speak in a language that he probably hasn't heard since he was a child. I am hoping that when we knock the fever down he will begin to show signs of waking up."

As they spoke quietly outside Johnny's room the nursing staff and lab technicians who had been working began to filter out.

"How did it go this morning? I'm sorry I couldn't be there, but I had to be here for obvious reasons." Dr. Brackett asked bring Roy out of his thoughts.

The relief that Johnny might wake up once they controlled his temperature took a huge weight off Roy's heart. The interview that took place only an hour ago seemed like a distant memory. "I wanted to thank you for sending Dixie over with that tape. It really made all the difference in more ways than one."

Confusion clouded the doctor's features. "Oh, how's that?"

"Hearing it on the tape like that made me realize that I didn't really do anything wrong. I was... concerned." Roy didn't really want to say that he was still feeling unsure about the thoracostomy he did yesterday. It had saved Johnny's life, but when he found out about the investigation he once again began to have doubts as to whether or not he should have attempted something like that without the proper training.

"Well, I'm glad it helped. The person behind all of this clandestine posturing is one of the hospital's two vice presidents. He is also in charge of public relations." The sour look that crossed Dr. Brackett's face was almost comical. "The CEO is out of town at the moment, but I have contacted his administrative assistant and should be hearing from him later today. I don't want you to worry about any of this, Roy. Johnny is in good hands and I'll make sure that the ICU staff knows that you are to be allowed to visit him. He responds to you better than anyone else and I believe that your presence is medically necessary. Now, please don't take that to mean that you have to sit here all day holding his hand. You got what 3 or 4 hours of sleep?"

Roy nodded. It was actually closer to 2 and a half hours but he didn't want to bring that up. "You look exhausted, Roy. Stay for a little while, but then I want you to go home and get some rest. I promise that we will call you if there is any change in his condition. Right now I have to go make some phone calls and see if I can catch a shower. I'll see you later okay?"

"Yeah, thanks, Doc. I know you are supposed to be off right now, but thanks for staying with him."

"You got it, Pal. I put too much work into training him to let anything happen at this point!"

Roy watched for a moment as Dr. Brackett walked over to the nursing desk and speak to the charge nurse who began to approach him when he first came into the ICU with Dixie. She frowned as the doctor spoke to her and looked over at Roy. She looked to be arguing with the doctor, but Brackett stood firm and crossed his arms over his chest giving her his classic stubborn face. Finally she nodded and said something else that prompted a small smile from the taciturn doctor. He nodded back with a satisfied look on his face before turning to leave. Roy had to hand it to Dr. Brackett. It wasn't often that the man didn't get his way.

Roy stepped back into the room and moved over to the side of the bed. He took Johnny's limp hand in his own noting how warm the skin was. He was numb from lack of sleep and distraught over everything that had happened in the last 12 hours. He had to admit that he did feel better about the emergency throacostomy, but nothing Cap or Dr. Brackett had said could convince him that he wasn't wholly culpable for Johnny's situation.

Roy didn't know how long he had been standing there by the side of the bed as his thoughts wandered. He squeezed Johnny's hand and began to speak softly. "Hey, Pally, I don't know if you can really hear me, but Cap thinks you can so listen up. Dr. Brackett says that you are going to be all right. You gave me a bit of a scare there, my friend, but I know you are going to wake up and start flirting with these nurses pretty soon."

Roy had to stop. His emotions were coming close to overwhelming him. He took a deep breath and blew it out.

"Cap and the rest of the guys want to come and see you, but they have to wait for you to wake up and move to a different room. Look, Johnny, I... I let you down. Cap told me that you trust me more than anyone you know and I think that's probably true. I should have seen what was happening. What's tearing me up is; I knew something was wrong. I knew it, but I didn't do anything. I let it go. I won't blame Dr. Brackett for reading the wrong x-ray, or you for not knowing something was seriously wrong, because I _did_ know. I kew something was wrong and I did nothing about it. I'm you partner, and your best friend and no matter what anyone says, I know I let you down. This is on me, Pal, it's all on me. You have to wake up, Johnny. I don't think I can live with myself if you don't. I know I could never continue as a paramedic, not when I failed so miserably when it mattered the most."

Roy stopped again to squelch the sob in his throat. He remembered what Cap had said about staying positive for Johnny's sake, and how Johnny trusted him. _He trusted me and look what came of that trust_. Roy gave up trying to stop the tears from falling. It was no use. The fell from his face, dropping on the flaccid hand he held. The sounds of footsteps passing the door startled Roy out of his misery. The last thing he needed or wanted was a witness to his weakness. He wiped his face with his free hand and cleared his throat. "I am going to leave for a while, but I'll be back a little later. I have to go see Joanne. She doesn't even know about any of this yet and she'll kill me if I don't fill her in. You know how women are. I'll see you soon, partner."

Roy didn't know what else to say. He was bone tired and his emotions were raw. He needed to see his wife and get a couple of hours of sleep before he wound up in a bed here at the hospital as well. He gave Johnny's hand a squeeze before laying it gently down on the bed. As he turned to leave he didn't notice the tear that slipped out from under Johnny's closed eyelid and slid silently down the side of his face.

**TBC**

**A/N:** The language is Ojibwe and it's meaning will be revealed. Since there is no background information on what tribe Johnny is from, I chose the Chippewa. Ojibwe-otherwise anglicized as Chippewa, Ojibwa or Ojibway and known to its own speakers as Anishinabe or Anishinaabemowin-is an Algonquian language spoken by 50,000 people in the northern United States and southern Canada.


	11. Chapter 11

**Checks and Balances**

**Chapter 11**

The darkness that surrounded Johnny was so complete he was really just floating in dead space. There was no way to tell if he was a part of the darkness or if he had been swallowed by it.

_Am I dead?_

It seemed like a reasonable question to ponder considering he knew he was someone, and that there should be more to his existence than this suffocating blackness. Almost as if conjured by this thought he became aware of faint sounds; voices, but they had no meaning, they were just vibrations echoing through the silence.

_Am I breathing?_

Johnny tried to take a deep breath and his existence altered as pain gripped his chest and upper back. Red and gold sparks flashed across his consciousness. He was as an ember spat from a fire through the void. The voices grew louder and brought with them a frantic and important sensation. The fire raging across his chest eased and his existence began to lighten slightly.

_"I don't know what happened. His breathing was erratic for a moment, but he seems fine now."_

_"Have you taken his temperature? He feels warm."_

The voices faded and the void surrounding him grew thick and heavy. Heat mounted as the shadowed veil that had encompassed him lightened to hues of magenta and auric with no distinct shape. His mind grasped for an explanation. Was he peering at a raging fire through closed eyes? Somehow the idea that he was surrounded by fire made sense to him, yet did nothing to quell the fear pumping through his heart. It was hot, and close, and terrifying. Stabbing pain coursed throughout his chest and upper back as though he were being squeezed by a giant unseen hand.

_"His temp's up to 103, he's maintaining decent breath sounds, pulse is racing, and his BP's up."_

_Breath sounds? Pulse? BP? Haven't I heard that before?_

Words sharpened into familiar and slightly ominous dialogue through the fog. He tried desperately to order his thoughts; to remember what had happened to bring him to this horrible place.

A fragment of memory flashed through his muddled mind; cat's eyes. It made no sense. Why was he remembering cat's eyes? The effort to piece together confused shards of memory flitting by like errant fireflies proved an overwhelming task. Where once he floated; the weight of jumbled thoughts and feelings sent him reeling wildly through the crimson abyss. Stark terror rippled through Johnny as his entire body tensed with the sudden sensation of falling. He tried to reach out; to grab onto something, anything, but his arms were like leaden stumps. Johnny held his breath anticipating death at the end of his rapid decent and even welcomed the relief it would provide from the heat, pain, and fear, but that end never came. A sense of frustration and hopelessness engulfed him. Nothing made sense in this non-place where he now existed.

_Am I in hell? The never ending fire, that's what the preacher-man called it._

He tried to think of the last thing he could remember, the last thing that made sense, but it was no use. The heat and the haze of this place sapped his mind. Half formed thoughts fluttered across his consciousness erratically, but he couldn't hang onto any of them. Faint memories darted through his mind's eye and while he couldn't place the memories he felt emotions associated with them. The memory of two boys running bare-chested through a large field brought with it a feeling of happiness and freedom. A woman's voice, soft and warm, singing made him feel comforted and safe. A large red truck with hoses and ladders accompanied a sense of urgency and a trill of excitement.

The heat intensified; he was suffocating, and yet he knew he could breathe. He tried to hang onto the fragmented memories that brought comfort but they were cast off in sweltering waves. The voices he heard were humming along in the background like bees from inside a hive. He tried concentrating on them. If he could pick out one voice maybe he could figure out where he was, and what was happening to him.

The voice he focused on was lower than the others. It sounded familiar somehow, and he was inexplicably drawn to it. This voice was one of love and trust. He somehow knew, with absolute certainty, this voice would speak the truth if only he could hear it clearly. In the back of his mind Johnny realized that he couldn't be in hell no matter how hot or terrifying this existence was. The voice he was trying to reach would never be in such a place and that realization helped to ease his fear slightly.

He willed himself closer to the deep voice longing to be wrapped in its loving embrace. The words spoken were those of his mother's people. He understood what was said, though he had always spoken English.

"Be still, my son."

Johnny mentally clung to this voice like a lifeline that was as tangible as the love, relief, longing and sadness that it instilled in his heart. "Father? I'm frightened."

"Do not fear. Listen, and the Great Spirit will guide you home."

Johnny had never truly believed in the Great Spirit. The "Gitche Manito" as the old ones named their God. He didn't think the Great Spirit would speak to him since he didn't believe. "Father, help me!"

"It is not your time. Follow the Great Spirit back to the world of men."

Johnny didn't want to go back to some world he couldn't remember. He wanted to stay wrapped in the embrace of this voice; to feel its comfort. It had been too long since he had heard his father's voice. "I want to stay with you, father."

"You must go now."

Panic filled Johnny, and he became that child running through the field bare-chested. It was the only reality he had, and he couldn't lose it. "Don't you love me, daddy? I want to stay with you!" He cried, almost petulantly. He didn't want to go with the Great Spirit. He wanted to stay with his father.

His father's voice faded away to blend into the other nondescript voices coming from all around him. Johnny called out begging him for help; begging his father to come back and stay with him. An image began to form in his mind that Johnny tried desperately to block out. He wouldn't allow his grandparents beliefs to take him away from the voice he longed to hear again.

A great winged creature spoke to him with the screeching cry of a huge raptor, but he understood what was said all the same.

"Come now, child."

Johnny refused to respond to the Gitche Manito giving it power over him. He would not allow himself to be ripped away from the only semblance of safety he'd found in this terrifying nightmare. He concentrated as hard as he could, seeking out the deep bass tones of his father's voice, but his fleeting hope was crushed by the overpowering roar of enormous wings flapping.

"It is time. Come now."

Johnny shook his head as he squeezed his eyes shut. Every muscle in his body tensed in concentration as he tried to block out the Great Spirit.

"Father, help me!"

Johnny searched the void for something to hide behind knowing that darkness alone did not shade him from the intent of the Great Spirit.

He began to shake and the voices swirling around him became louder, but no less indistinct. He searched for his father's voice, and not being able to distinguish it from the growing mass of sound he cried out again, "Father, help me!"

John cowered and tried to scream for his father, but he no longer had a voice of his own. The Great Spirit's wings beat a thunderous storm of sound and pain upon him, while directing invisible hands to pull and squeeze. He writhed in agony trying to fight off these unseen assailants, but he had no control over his body. His ears filled with rushing sound and the red and gold haze that surrounded him was shattered with bright white lightning that brought with it indescribable pain searing through every fiber of his being. Johnny was being ripped apart from the inside out while a frantic beeping echoed high above the din of sound. The beeping grew louder along with the hideous choir of voices until Johnny teetered on the brink of madness.

Just as Johnny accepted that he would be consumed by pain and fear something changed. The cacophony of noise that enveloped him like a suffocating blanket gradually began to thin and dissipate. The voices began to coalesce into distinct sounds and he could faintly hear what they were saying.

_"BP is coming down 140 over 120, pulse rate is 95."_

"The phenobarbitol is working. I want grade 3 cooling measures started STAT. Get me an updated set of vitals with a temp and I want 50 milligrams..."

The voices faded away as quickly as they had come sending him back to the void. He searched for traces of the lightning, the sound of enormous wings, or even the all consuming pain, but there were no signs that the Gitchi Manito had come, nor was there any hint that his father had spoken to him; the memory slipping away like smoke in the night air.

The next time Johnny was aware of anything he had an odd disjointed sensation of time passing. He could see nothing but muted colors and was still enveloped in a stifling sensation of heat that made breathing slow and strained. He vaguely recalled voices, noise, and pain as if in a half remembered dream.

He became aware of a presence. He heard a voice that seemed very familiar the same way the words he had heard earlier had seemed familiar. Unlike the voices in his dream, this one sounded defeated and sad. He wanted to reach out and comfort it.

_"This is on me, Pally, it's all on me. You have to wake up, Johnny. I don't think I can live with myself if you don't. I know I could never continue as a paramedic, not when I failed so miserably when it mattered the most."_

This familiar voice was so infused with pain that it cut straight through to Johnny's heart and he knew he needed to help.

_It's not your fault._

He fought with all of his will to reach out, but the haze and the heat represented an impassable barrier. The solace that this voice sought must be answered. Frustration filled Johnny's mind at his inability to break through. Panic filled him; the voice was leaving. He tried harder to call out, but he couldn't find his own voice.

_Wait! Don't go!_

Unuttered thoughts and desires, no mater how passionate, fell like rain drops to barren dirt. Then it was gone, and Johnny wept for the pain he heard in that voice and for the pain of his own failure.

**TBC**

**A/N:** This is a short chapter, but this scene should stand alone. I wish to thank The Delirium Threeman, Oughtaknowbetter, dHall, and Dianne for giving me so much invaluable feedback on this rather difficult scene. This one went through minimally a dozen re-writes. I hope you liked it.

Alice I


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N:** Hi everyone. Sorry for the delay. I'm back at work now and getting back into a regular routine. The second half of this chapter has not been beta read so please forgive errors. I ran it through spell and grammar checks, but things could have been missed all the same.

**Checks and Balances**

**Chapter 12**

The drive home passed in a blur for Roy. He didn't remember any of it, and in the back of his mind he knew that he should probably not have driven at all. He was dangerously tired and could have easily fallen asleep at the wheel, crashing his vehicle. As he came to a stop in his driveway, he spent a moment resting his head on the steering wheel. The past shift had been one of the worst he could remember. He knew he should go inside before Joanne came out to see what was wrong, but he just couldn't motivate his body to move. Without knowing when they began, tears formed in his eyes and threatened to fall.

Roy took a few minutes to get his emotions under control. He was determined not to cry in front of Joanne. She would be concerned enough about him and Johnny, and he wasn't about to add to her stress level. Finally, feeling utterly spent, but more under control, Roy slipped from his car and slowly made his way to the back door. Joanne was waiting for him, sitting quietly at the kitchen table. She stood up when he stepped in. He dropped his duffel on the floor by the back door, and she walked over to him wrapping her arms around his neck, and drawing him into a close embrace. She didn't say anything, only held him tightly which nearly dissolved the tenuous hold he had over his emotions.

"It's bad, Jo. I could lose him this time."

Roy felt her stiffen at his words. She pulled away from their embrace and took his hands, guiding him to the kitchen table. He took a seat and began telling her about the shift and Johnny's accident while she made him a cup of warm nutmeg milk.

Roy spent almost an hour telling Joanne everything that had happened. He tried to keep his emotions in check, and failed spectacularly. He didn't know how his wife would react to his failure to recognize how serious Johnny's situation was, or how she would feel about the department's lawyer needing to be present for an inquiry into his actions when they found Johnny the previous evening. He realized in retrospect that he should have expected nothing less than what she gave him; a shoulder to cry on, a long and tight embrace and words of encouragement whispered into his ear. Roy realized how lucky he was to have Joanne in his life. She truly was the rock that kept his world sane and whole.

Joanne seemed to sense that the last thing he wanted was anything to eat, so rather than insisting that he have breakfast she walked him to the bed room and got him to lay down so she could rub some of the tension out of his shoulders. Her gentle ministrations were a welcome sensation that allowed the hours of anxiety to seep from his weary body. The warm embrace of dreamless sleep claimed him before he had even considered getting undressed and showering.

* * *

><p>The insistent ringing of a phone echoed in the back of Roy's mind. He wondered why he could hear a phone ringing when he was out in the mountains of the Sierra wilderness. He and Johnny had gone for a climb but instead they had found an injured hiker. When they looked over the edge of the cliff the hiker was Johnny. For reasons that can only be explained by the flexibility of a dreamscape it didn't seem so odd that Johnny was no longer at his side but down on a ledge fifty feet below him telling him to go get help.<p>

"I'll be back as quickly as I can! Hang in there, partner!" Roy turned and ran back the way he had come moving as fast as his legs would carry him, but he didn't seem to be going anywhere. He ran harder, knowing that Johnny was counting on him. He couldn't fail him again. He knew if he could just get over that next rise he would find help, but the sound of that ringing phone in the mountains distracted him and he lost his footing. Time changed and it no longer ran in slow motion. He was rolling down the rocky terrain at a tremendous rate as fear gripped his heart. His shoulder was shaking and a soft voice spoke to him in dulcet tones.

"Roy, wake up honey. Roy, Dr. Brackett called, it's time to wake up."

Roy slowly opened his eyes. He was lying on his stomach, his head buried in his feather pillow. "Hmmm?"

"Roy, the hospital called." Joanne said, as she placed her hand on his back.

Suddenly everything came rushing back and Roy jerked up quickly. The side of his face was wet with drool, but he didn't care. "What? What happened?"

Joanne shushed him as she rubbed his back. "Dr. Brackett called to tell you that Johnny's fever broke. He's hoping that he'll wake up soon."

Roy sat up quickly and rubbed at his face. "What time is it? How long was I asleep?"

"You've been asleep for about five hours. It 4:30 in the afternoon."

Roy wiped the side of his face and looked around not quite awake. He glanced over at the clock on the bedside table then back up at his wife. She was grinning at him with an amused look on her face.

"Go take a shower. I'll lay out some clothes for you and make you a sandwich."

Blinking rapidly to wake up more fully, Roy nodded. "Thanks, hun. I'll be out in a few minutes."

Joanne leaned down and gave him a kiss on the cheek then stood up making a face before she turned and stepped over to the dresser. Roy couldn't imagine why she was acting so oddly, but he had other things on his mind and didn't bother to ask her about it. He got up and stepped into the bathroom, flipping on the light. The sight that greeted him in the mirror almost made him laugh out loud. His hair was standing straight up on the left side of his head, his cheek on that side was damp and had the imprint of wrinkles from the pillow case. He looked like a crazed lunatic and he now understood why Jo had made a face.

A short hot shower chased the last of his sleepiness away and he stepped out of the bathroom clean shaven and feeling much more refreshed than he had thought possible. Joanne had laid out jeans and a light blue button up shirt for him which he quickly changed into before heading down to the kitchen.

As he walked down the stairs he could hear the kids trying to argue quietly.

"You're supposed to be quite so Daddy can sleep, Chris!" Jennifer hissed.

"Yeah, I know, but Dad's up now. Didn't you hear the shower? Besides I heard mom on the phone. Dad's gotta go to the..." Chris stopped speaking abruptly as if he had said something he shouldn't have.

"Daddy's going somewhere? I wanna come too!" Jennifer wailed, no longer caring about being quiet.

"You can't!" Chris said defiantly just as Roy turned the corner and could see his children.

Chris was standing in front of Jennifer with his arms crossed over his chest in an exact imitation of his Roy when he was scolding the kids which made him smile and stifle a chuckle. Jennifer was standing facing him with her hands planted firmly on her hips and fire in her eyes, looking remarkably similar to her mother when Joanne's dander was fairly up.

"You're not the boss of me!"

Roy decided to put an end to this before anything got out of hand. "Hey, you two. That will be enough of that."

Both kids turned to see their father standing in the door way to the living room and their countenance immediately changed. Jennifer hands dropped from her hips and she squealed excitedly.

"Daddy! You're awake! Can I go with you?" she said as she turned her head and stuck her tongue out at Chris.

Chris dropped his arms and rolled his eyes and he plopped down on the couch. Jennifer launched herself at her father and Roy scooped her up in an embrace smoothly then carried her over to the couch and took a seat next to Chris.

"I want to talk to you guys about Johnny for a minute."

Chris noticed the serious tone of his father's voice and sat up straighter. Jennifer took Roy announcement to mean that Johnny was coming over.

"Oooh is he coming too, Daddy? Where are we going to go?"

Roy smiled and shook his head at his daughter who had already assumed that his answer to her going with him was yes.

"No, honey, Johnny's not coming over, not for a while. He is very sick right now. I am going to go to the hospital to visit him and see how he is doing."

Before Roy could get another word out both of the kids started speaking at once.

"I want to go visit Johnny too!"

"Dad, is he gonna be okay? Can we go see him?"

Joanne stepped into the doorway leading to the kitchen and watched as her husband tried to explain this situation to the children. Roy also suspected she wanted to be there to step in and back him up when the kids objected to not being allowed to see Johnny.

"Whoa, just slow down you two. Right now Johnny is in a special room at the hospital and can't have visitors. I'm the only one who can see him until he gets better enough to go to a regular room." Roy tried to explain.

"How come only you can see him, Daddy?" Jennifer wanted to know.

"Well, you see he is my partner and Johnny doesn't have any family."

"Hey, we are his family!" Chris protested loudly along with Jennifer.

"I know, Johnny is like family to us. What I meant is he doesn't have a mom and dad, or brothers and sisters. When someone is sick and in this special kind of room only family members are allowed to visit. They are letting me because I'm his partner and because Dr. Brackett made a special exception for me."

Both of the kids took a moment to digest that information and it was just enough of a break in the conversation for Joanne to divert the oncoming storm of questions she knew would soon follow.

"Okay, kids, I want you guys to go get your homework done before dinner."

That earned her a chorus of "awws" from both the kids, but they got up and moved off to the dining room table with their backpacks. Roy kissed both his children before he moved out to the kitchen. "Thanks honey. I'll call you if... I'll call you _when_ he wakes up, okay?"

Joanne stepped up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Roy, none of this is your fault. I want you to remember that. Johnny will be okay even if he doesn't wake up _today_. He has been through a physically traumatic experience. His body needs time to rest and to heal."

Roy knew she was trying to prepare him emotionally for the fact that Johnny may not wake up as Dr. Brackett was hoping. She knew he feared this the most having revealed it to Joanne that morning when he told her everything. She was right, though. He might not wake up today and that didn't mean the worst had come to pass.

"Thanks, Jo."

She kissed him warmly and held him tight for a moment before stepping back and pulling from his embrace. She reached over to the counter and grabbed a paper bag that held not only a sandwich for him but an apple and some chips.

"Take it with you. I know you want to get to the hospital as soon as you can. Call me when you have an update on Johnny. I'm worried about him too."

Roy smiled down at his wife. Of course she would be concerned as well. Johnny had become an important member of their family.

"I will. I may be there for a while, I just... I don't want him to be alone when he wakes up, ya know? I don't think I'll be able to rest until I know he's okay."

Roy was doing a terrible job at explaining what he was feeling and he knew it. The paramedic in him knew that between the anoxia, the high fever, and the seizure Johnny's odds of waking up without some sort of neurological damage were not very good. Joanne seemed to read his mind.

"No matter what happens, Johnny'll be okay, Roy, because he has the entire LA County Fire Department behind him, but more than that; he has us. He's a part of this family and we will help him through what ever he faces during his recovery, no matter what that may be."

Roy hugged Joanne tightly burying his face in her neck. He was so grateful for her. He knew with her support both he and his partner would get through what ever life handed to them, and there wasn't any more a man could ask.

* * *

><p>The drive to Rampart took far longer than Roy had hoped because he ran into rush hour traffic. What should have been a fifteen minute drive turned into close to forty minutes and by the time Roy pulled into a parking spot he had already finished the lunch that Jo had packed for him. That plus the sleep had made all the difference in the world and Roy felt much better than he had that morning.<p>

The ICU seemed quiet in comparison to the last time he was there and Roy was glad that he wasn't stopped by anyone when he walked over to Johnny's room. Dr. Brackett was standing at the side of the bed peering into the young man's eyes when Roy stepped in quietly and cleared his throat.

"Roy! Good, I'm glad you made it in. You look better. I'm guessing you got some sleep." Brackett said as he stepped back from the bedside.

"Yeah, I really needed it. You got some sleep, as well, I see."

Dr. Brackett looked almost as exhausted as Roy did that morning when he left for home, but now he was shaved, and wearing a clean set of clothes. He looked more refreshed even though he still had dark circles under his eyes.

"I did actually. Dix came back about half an hour after you left and threatened to 'hog-tie' me if I didn't get minimally three hours of sleep."

Roy smiled at the image of the small nurse forcing the stubborn doctor into doing as he was told. "Has he woken up yet?"

"I'm afraid not. I was hoping that he would regain consciousness when the fever broke, but he is being a bit stubborn."

"That sounds like Johnny all right. Is this still a coma? Is that why he's not waking up?" Roy asked feeling concern begin to well up in his gut.

"I don't think so. His pupillary responses are normal, he responds to painful stimuli, he just won't wake up." Dr. Brackett sounded frustrated. "His right lung has almost fully re-inflated. I want to keep the chest tube in place for at least another day or two. His labs are coming back good, even though he still has an elevated white count. The infection is beginning to respond to the antibiotics."

At the mention of the infection Roy felt his stomach do a flip. The doctor must have seen that in his face because he continued with a stern voice.

"Roy, the infection is not your fault. Could the infection have been introduced when you did the thoracostomy? Yes, but it could also have happened when the chest tube was inserted, or this could be his body's natural response to the trauma. Remember without a spleen, Johnny is far more susceptible to infection that you or I would be. Now if you don't stop blaming yourself, I'll have Dixie come and have a talk with you."

Dr. Brackett looked pleased with himself as he crossed his arms over his chest. Both men turned at the sound of a new voice. "You wouldn't want that. Miss McCall is a formidable woman."

A well dressed dark haired man stood in the door way of Johnny's room. His brown eyes were piercing, but held a hint of humor around the edges as he spoke of Dixie. The tailored three piece suit he wore that probably cost more than a month's salary for Roy made him look straight and stern, but his voice was almost soft spoken. He stepped forward and extended his hand to Roy.

"I'm Nathan O'Brien, the hospital administrator. You must be fireman DeSoto."

Roy shifted from foot to foot feeling the anxiety from that morning begin to return. "Yeah, uh, yeah that's me."

"I just got back into town late this morning. Dr. Brackett informed me of the situation with your partner, and the mistake that took place in our radiology department."

This man was the head of Rampart hospital and somewhat imposing, but Roy looked him straight in the eye. "An investigator for the hospital came to the station this morning. He seemed to have made up his mind that I was at fault for something before he even spoke to me. I believe his exact words were 'You have a lot to answer for.' Honestly, I was very glad that the department had a lawyer there to look out for me."

Roy didn't miss the look on O'Brien's face. The man was clearly not very happy about the situation. "I want to apologize for the actions of my administration. The situation with your partner has nothing to do with your paramedic care, and as I understand it, you saved fireman Gage's life. I had a long and detailed conversation with your battalion chief as well as your departmental lawyer. The investigation into this incident was handled very poorly, and in all honesty you should not have been questioned about your field care in this manner. I also listened to the recording of the call. It is clear that you were acting properly and under the direct orders of the senior physician in the emergency department."

Roy's eyes opened wide. O'Brien's response to what had happened was not what he had expected. He felt the tension and anxiety roll off of him like water from duck down. Before he could say anything else O'Brien continued speaking.

"There was also an investigation internally to try and determine how this happened. As I understand it, the entire hospital was extremely busy yesterday including the radiology department. That investigation has yet to be concluded, but I assure you as soon as we figure out how this happened we will take appropriate steps to ensure there will never be a reoccurrence."

O'Brien turned his attention to Dr. Brackett. "How is Mr. Gage doing?"

Roy looked to the doctor wanting to know how he would respond. He didn't think that Dr. Brackett would have held anything back from him, but when asked by the head of the hospital he wondered if the answer would be any different.

"Not as well as I would like. He hasn't regained consciousness yet, but I'm hopeful that he will soon."

"Do you know why he hasn't regained consciousness?" O'Brien wanted to know.

"Not conclusively. After his initial accident he was slowly deprived of adequate oxygen for several hours and then after collapsing he was without oxygen for several minutes before the pressure surrounding his right lung was relieved. He was comatose when he arrived last night, and developed an infection in the lining surrounding the re-inflated lung. I believe that we have the infection under control so I'm hopeful that he will regain consciousness soon."

O'Brien looked thoughtful for a moment. He glanced at Roy as if gauging what he wanted to say, then nodded slightly to himself as if he had come to a decision. "What about brain damage because of the oxygen deprivation?"

Roy felt as if the elephant in the room had just trumpeted loudly. The question hung in the air like an oppressive fog making Roy hold his breath waiting for Dr. Brackett's answer.

"Until he wakes up, there is no way to know what, if any, damage has occurred. He could be facing a long recovery."

Roy feel O'Brien's eyes studying him as Dr. Brackett spoke. "Please keep me informed of his progress. I want his family to know that Rampart will make sure that whatever services are required to make a full recovery will be provided."

Roy didn't mention that the department was the only family Johnny had. He decided that he liked this Nathan O'Brien and respected that he was taking responsibility for what had happened. Without even realizing it Roy felt as though an immense weight had been lifted from his shoulders and for the first time since this whole situation began he breathed a sigh of relief.

**TBC**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **The truth is this story fell off the rails, but my son has asked me to read it to him and we are up to chapter 10. I have decided to pull it out and finish it up so that when we get to this point there is something there for him to read. Real life, for quite a while, made writing not so much of an option. Well real life has changed yet again and maybe now I can devote a little more time to older unfinished projects. This being one of them.

Oh yeah, little surprise for readers. The native language that Johnny used back in chapter 9 or 10 is explained in this chapter.

Happy New Year to everyone.

**Checks and Balances**

**Chapter 13**

The wait for Johnny to wake up was shorter than Roy had anticipated. By six thirty the young man began to stir and Roy contacted the nurse asking her to inform Dr. Brackett whom he knew had not left the hospital. Roy stood next to Johnny's bed and watched his partner closely, smiling broadly when his eyes fluttered open.

"Hey there, Junior. It's about time you woke up." he intoned softly.

Johnny's eyes were unfocused and darted around as though searching for something.

"Johnny? Hey it's okay." Roy said, feeling fear prickle his senses.

Johnny didn't respond or even seem to hear him. He raised a hand as though shielding himself from some unseen threat. Roy didn't know what to do other than to take hold of his friend's hand and squeeze it reassuringly just as Dr. Brackett stepped through the door.

"Nindedem?" John's voice was horse and weak, but what disturbed Roy was how terrified his partner sounded. He looked up to Dr. Brackett silently pleading for answers.

The doctor stepped forward and shown a pen light into Johnny's eyes checking for pupil reaction. John pushed back in the bed away from the offending light his eyes wide with fear. He ripped his hand out of Roy's grasp with surprising strength and swatted the pen light from Dr. Brackett.

"Whoa, there hose jockey, settle down now. You're okay. You're safe here." The beeping from John's heart monitor began racing wildly and his breathing became rapid and shallow. "Dixie, get me 2 mg of Ativan stat. Roy try to talk to him. If he doesn't calm down he'll pull that chest tube out!"

Dr. Brackett moved back out of the way and Roy stepped into Johnny's line of vision. "Johnny! Hey, Johnny, you need to calm down. I'm right here, pally." Roy, said as he took hold of Johnny's hand again.

Johnny's eyes tracked over to Roy, but the senior paramedic got the distinct impression that John wasn't actually seeing him. Dr. Brackett had just seen a pupil reaction so blindness wasn't the issue. John's breathing was becoming labored as he panicked and Roy knew he needed to get him to slow down now before he could damage his already compromised lungs. Roy leaned forward close to Johnny's face and spoke softly as he had done with his own children when they woke up, disturbed by night terrors.

"Shhh, slow it down now, partner. I'm right here, I'm not going to leave you. Just breath for me, Johnny. Breath _with_ me." Roy said as he inhaled deeply and slowly.

Dixie rushed back into the room with the sedative that Dr. Brackett had ordered and he inserted it into the IV. The effect was immediate, and worked in conjunction with Roy's calming breathing instructions. Johnny began to slow down his breathing and the tension began to seep away from his body as his eyes started drooping.

Roy stood up looking at Dr. Brackett as he lowered Johnny's hand to the bed, but the young man wouldn't let go. His eyes were now closed and his breathing had slowed dramatically. The heart monitor had also begun to slow its tempo to a more manageable rate.

Once he was calmed down and sleeping Dr. Brackett moved over to Johnny's side and peeled the bandaging away from the chest tube. It was clear that the infection was reasserting itself judging by the red irritated skin around the tube's insertion site.

"Damn it. Dix get me a temp on him and lets switch up the antibiotics again."

Dixie slid a thermometer into the young man's mouth while Dr. Brackett applied new clean dressings to the tube site.

"He's back up to 101.5, Kel."

"Okay lets get some cold compresses for him and keep the cooling measures in place. The fever isn't too high, but we don't want it getting any higher."

Roy wasn't able to keep the despair from his voice, "He didn't recognize me, Doc. He went too long with out oxygen, didn't he?"

Dr. Brackett shook his head. "Now don't you lose hope, Roy. He is spiking another fever and that will add to his disorientation. This kind of thing isn't so uncommon after what he's been through. We won't be able to asses his neurological condition until he fully wakes up. I know how frightening that was, but it _is_ progress, Roy. He woke on his own. If we can completely knock down the fever the next time he wakes, he will hopefully be more oriented."

Roy stayed long into the night as Johnny slept fitfully re-applying the cold compresses to his forehead. The sedation kept him under for a few hours, but once it had worn off the younger man seemed to be disturbed by bad dreams. Dr. Brackett did eventually go home to get some sleep, having been at the hospital for nearly 48 hours, but Roy didn't want to risk leaving in case Johnny woke again terrified of his surroundings.

* * *

><p>The first rays of the morning sun peeked in through the window blinds casting a soft light over the room. One of the morning shift nurses came in to take Johnny's vital signs which roused Roy who had fallen asleep in the chair next to his friend's bed. Once she completed her task and was ready to leave, Roy asked her what his temperature was.<p>

"He is stable at 99.8"

Roy nodded and thanked her feeling better about the situation. He sat up and stretched his back working out the knots from sleeping in a plastic chair. He wanted coffee but was a little nervous about leaving. The need for liquid caffeine won out and he rose quietly slipping out to head to the lounge in the ER. He did stop by the nursing station first to let the charge nurse know that he would be right back and was pleased to find that the crabby nurse who argued with Dr. Brackett about Roy's visitation was off duty.

Dr. Morton was sitting in the lounge when Roy stepped in. "You're here early DeSoto?"

Roy grabbed a mug from the cupboard and poured himself cup while he spoke. "I never left."

Morton raised his eyebrows, "You've been here all night? How is Gage anyway?"

Roy sat at the table and sighed. "Honestly, I don't know. He woke up last evening for a few minutes, but..."

Curiosity prompted Morton to push. "But what? What happened?"

"He spiked another fever, he was disoriented and pretty much freaked out. He didn't recognize me; he even said something, but it didn't make any sense."

"Really? What did he say?"

Roy shook his head, "I don't know, something like 'nin day dame'. Like I said it didn't make any sense."

Morton looked thoughtful for a moment. "Maybe it wasn't just nonsense, Roy. Dr. Brackett mentioned that when Johnny was really out of it that first night and spoke in some kind of native tongue. Maybe this 'nin day dame' is something in... um, say what tribe does Gage come from anyway?"

"He grew up on a ranch on the Chippewa Cree reservation up in Montana. He doesn't talk too much about his years growing up there and I never thought he knew another language until now."

Morton got up and put his cup by the pot on the counter. He turned and stepped over to Roy and clapped him on the shoulder. "Try to stay positive, Roy. In the years that I have known you guys I've never seen anyone with more luck than that partner of yours. He has more lives than a cat. I'm sure he'll pull through this."

"Yeah... yeah I'm sure you're right."

Roy didn't sound convinced even to his own ears but thinking the worst was not going to do him or Johnny any good. He set his own mug back on the counter and moved over to the phone to call Joann to check up on her, and apologize for not coming home the previous night.

As Roy left the lounge he ran into Dixie just coming on shift. "Hey, Roy, I see you didn't go home last night? How's he doing?"

"Well his temp is down to 99.8 so that's something. I want to get back up there in case he wakes up."

"Okay, Roy. I'll stop up in a little while with some breakfast for you okay?"

"Thanks, Dix. That would be great."

As he made his way to the elevator he stopped at the sound of his name being called.

"Hey, Roy."

Bob Bellingham was walking toward him with Craig Brice in tow. "How's Johnny doing?"

Roy stepped away from the elevator and off to the side to get out of the way of others who needed to use the lift.

"Hi, Bob." Roy decided to stay positive with his response, taking Cap's advice to heart. "His fever broke yesterday, but spiked up again last evening. It was down to 99.8 this morning though so that's a step in the right direction."

Bob switched the HT from one hand to the other and leaned up against the wall. "Man that was something with that hospital investigator. I heard the brass pulled out all the stops in your defense."

Brice spoke up then "Animal, the captain told us that we weren't supposed to discuss this especially not with..."

"Oh stow it, Brice." Bellingham interrupted. "The entire department is talking about it. Man, I can't believe they tried to serve you up like that."

Roy was starting to feel a little uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had gone in. He had not really thought much about that '_investigator_' and preferred not to.

Brice wasn't quelled so easily, however and added, "It isn't so surprising that the administration wanted to conduct an investigation, Animal. We aren't trained to preform procedures like a thoracostomy."

Bob, the Animal, Bellingham turned directly to his partner towering over the smaller man. "What, you think Roy should have let Johnny die, just because of some rules in a book?" He turned back to Roy adding "Don't listen to him, Roy. He's just jealous that he didn't get the chance to do the thoracostomy himself."

"No of course I don't think he should have let Gage die. And I'm not jealous!" Brice added, in a petulant tone.

The Animal just raised an eyebrow at his partner who added, "Okay, I'll admit that it would have been fascinating to be a part of that particular rescue. It _was_ a once in a life-time opportunity!"

Roy's mouth dropped open at that comment. "You have got to be kidding. Once in a life time? Once is too many times. I never ever want to have to do that again, Brice. Certainly not on my best friend and partner."

Roy saw a strange look pass over Brice's face before he turned and headed back down the hall toward the ambulance bay doors. Roy turned a questioning glance at Bellingham. "What's with him?"

Bob shrugged. "You should hear him go on about you and Johnny and station 51. You guys have something unique and Brice is able to see that, even if he has no idea how to go about finding it for himself. I don't think he has a best friend."

Roy looked past Bob at Brice as he walked down the hallway. He felt badly for the man, and it made him realize how lucky he was having a partner like Johnny and crew mates like the rest of the men of A shift.

"Well, I'd better get back up to ICU. Take it easy Bob."

"Yeah, you too, Roy. Tell Johnny we're all thinking about him will ya?"

Roy pushed the button to call the elevator. "I'll tell him. He'd like to hear that I think."

When Roy got back to Johnny's room the younger man was sleeping peacefully. Roy placed his hand on John's forehead checking his temperature. It wasn't that he didn't believe the nurse from earlier, it's just that he wanted to really know for himself that Johnny's situation had improved as he had told the men from 110. There was nothing like the hands on approach to accomplish that.

Roy was certain that Johnny would wake up soon now that his fever was almost gone but the younger man slept on. Dixie brought Roy some breakfast as she had promised which he was grateful for. At nearly 10:30 Dr. Brackett as well as Dr. Morton came into the ICU to check on Johnny's condition.

"Hey, Doc, shouldn't he be waking up by now?" Roy asked with some trepidation.

"I wouldn't get too worried yet, Roy. It's still early and he's still a little warm." Dr. Brackett said as he looked over Johnny's chart before checking the chest tube site.

Roy stepped back out of the way to give Dr. Brackett room. Dr. Morton pulled Roy further to the side and spoke quietly. "I called a friend of mine at Berkley. He is a native American who is proficient in many of the different Native tongues. Kel, gave me that tape of what John was saying that first night and I played it for him."

Roy's interest was genuinely piqued now. "Yeah, what did your friend say?"

"Johnny thought he was talking to his father. Do his parents live on the reservation in Montana?"

Roy frowned. "Johnny's folks died when he was still a boy. He moved out here to California when he was seventeen or eighteen to live with his aunt. She passed a while back. What exactly did he say?"

"Well Nindedem means father. He must have been hallucinating something terrifying because on the recording he said 'Father stay with me', 'I'm afraid', then 'Father help me'. The language he was using was Ojibwe which has several different dialects. The Chippewa Cree from the northern states use the dialect that was recorded on that tape." Dr. Morton looked over at the sleeping young man and shook his head slightly. "And you never knew he could speak a native tongue?"

"No. Never had any idea. Like I said Johnny doesn't really talk much about his childhood. I mean I know he grew up on the reservation on a ranch. I know he isn't too crazy about anthropologists, and he used to ride horses when he was a kid, but other than that we mostly talk about the girls he dates, some of his crazy money making ideas, things with the department, you know, current stuff."

"It isn't surprising that he was seeing images of his parents while he was delirious. It would be interesting to see how much of that language he remembers when he wakes up." Dr. Morton turned to leave but stopped when Roy touched his arm.

"What do you mean how much he remembers? Obviously he remembers the language because he spoke it."

Dr. Morton put his hand up to his chin. "Not necessarily. He may not consciously remember much at all, and remember he didn't say a whole lot when he was ranting. Just a few basic phrases that he may have used when he was a small child. The subconscious mind is a wealth of information that we cannot always access consciously when we want to. Like I said, it would be interesting to find out what he actually remembers when he wakes up."

"You'd better be careful about questions like that, Doc. Johnny might put you in the same category as _'the anthros'_!" Roy smirked at the man as he turned to leave.

Roy was still thinking about what Dr. Morton had said when he heard Dr. Bracket say, "Welcome back."

Roy moved quickly over to the opposite side of the bed. Johnny was looking around slowly taking in his surroundings. He glanced up at Roy and said in a weak and strained voice, "It worked?"

Roy frowned at the question not having any idea what his partner was asking about. He shook his head but before he could say anything Johnny continued.

"The alarm. I pulled the alarm?"

Relief washed over Roy making his knees go weak and he sat down in the chair next to the bed. If Johnny's first question was about what he had done moments before he lost consciousness, then he had not suffered any kind of significant brain damage.

Johnny tried to sit up but couldn't manage it. "Now just hold on there. You aren't quite ready to get out of bed yet!" Dr. Brackett said, although his tone was colored with relief.

Roy reached over and adjusted the pillows behind Johnny adding another to help him sit up a little straighter. "Yeah, you scared the begeebiz out of Cap. He's never had the internal fire alarm go off before, not even when Chet set his skis on fire."

The worry and fear that had plagued Roy for the last forty eight hours welled up suddenly and Roy's eyes grew bright with suppressed tears.

Johnny looked a little scared by Roy's reaction. "Roy? What happened?"

Try as he might the tightly controlled emotions were impossible to hide completely. "You scared me, Junior. I thought... "

Roy stopped speaking because he knew that he would lose it if he finished that statement.

"How bad did it get?"

It was a simple enough question and Roy wasn't completely surprised by it, but he had no real idea how to answer. Between the guilt of missing the relevance of Johnny's symptoms, the shock of finding him in respiratory arrest on the floor of the station, preforming the thoracostomy, the investigations and allegations, and the very real fear of losing Johnny for good made that very simple question incredibly difficult to answer. Luckily he didn't have to, at least not at that moment because Dr. Brackett spoke.

"Bad enough. How do you feel, Johnny?"

"Like I fell off a building AND got run over by a truck. What happened?"

Dr. Brackett smiled at Johnny's sarcastic reply. "You had a tension pneumothorax that steadily grew over the course of the evening after you fell from that roof. When you went to sleep it caused your lung to completely collapse. Roy had to preform an emergency throacostomy. You developed an infection and things got a bit dicey from that point."

Johnny turned wide eyes to his partner. "You stuck a needle in my chest?"

"Roy saved your life, Johnny. You never would have made it to the hospital if he hadn't." Dr. Brackett said a little defensively.

"Man, what a trip that must have been." John turned to Roy. "Thanks, man."

Dr. Brackett cleared his throat to get both men's attention. "Johnny, we are going to need to run some neurological tests, just to be sure everything is all right." He looked up at Roy. "Why don't you give Joann a call and the rest of the guys. They'll want to know that it looks like John here will make a complete recovery."

Roy nodded understanding that Dr. Brackett wanted to have some time to evaluate Johnny. "Yeah, that would be a good idea. Hey, see you later, okay?" he added as he turned to leave.

**TBC**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: **We are almost done. The last chapter has not been written yet, but I have it fairly clearly outlined in my head, so it shouldn't take took long to get it written up and proofed.

**Checks and Balances**

**Chapter 14**

By two o'clock that afternoon all the guys from A shift had arrived at the hospital to see their crew mate. Johnny had, by then, been moved from the ICU to a regular room that allowed visitors and Dr. Brackett found the men hanging out in the doctor's lounge down in the ER. When he pushed the door open to the lounge all the men were on their feet in an instant. The doctor held his hands up in surrender to the chorus of "How's Johnny?" "Is he still awake?" "When can we see him?"

"Now hold on there. Johnny is doing remarkably well given the circumstances."

"What does that mean - given the circumstances?" Chet asked, suspiciously.

Dr. Brackett had to smile. It was good to see that these men all cared very much for the young paramedic. "It means that Johnny has once again beaten the odds. All of his neurological tests have come back with normal results. He doesn't seem to have sustained any brain damage from the lack of oxygen which is a huge step in the right direction. He still has a fever but it's under control, and the infection at the site of his chest tube is beginning to clear nicely."

Captain Stanley spoke before anyone else could form another question. "Well thank goodness for that. We were all pretty worried."

"I'm sure that a visit from all of you will raise his spirits, but he is still pretty weak and tires easily, so I'll ask you to keep it short."

When Roy and the others stepped into Johnny's room he was elevated in bed, but lay there with his eyes closed. His color was so much better than the last time the men had seen him that a collective sigh of relief passed through them all. Roy exchanged glances with his shift mates clearly torn between wanting to talk to his partner, yet hesitant to wake him.

"You all just gonna stand there or come in and say hello?" Johnny asked sleepily from the bed, his eyes open, but only half-lidded.

"How're ya feelin' there, Junior?" Roy asked, as he moved closer allowing the rest of the men to cram into the small room.

"Whipped and sore, but other than that, pretty good I guess." John made to sit up straighter and winced as the chest tube pulled against the bedding.

Chet moved quicker than anyone realized as he stepped in and readjusted the pillows under Johnny's back to support him. "You really know how to scare a guy don't ya Gage?" he complained, but his voice carried a distinct note of relief.

"That was a pretty slick move with the alarm pull at the station, Johnny." Mike chimed in.

"Yes it was _and_ you have officially broken my record, John." Captain Stanley added. "That is the only time in my entire career that an in-house alarm has ever gone off."

"Sorry, Cap." Johnny replied, a little sheepishly.

"Hey, don't be sorry. It was a stroke of brilliance and it saved your life, Pally."

"That and what Roy did." Chet added.

"It wasn't all Roy." Marco said, catching everyones attention. "Johnny, you should have seen Chet. He moved right in there and worked along side Roy as though he were a paramedic too."

Johnny's eyes opened a little wider. "Really?"

Chet began to look a little uncomfortable but Marco continued with his version of the events as they unfolded. "Yeah, we found you passed out on the floor and you weren't breathing. When Dr. Brackett told Roy that he needed to do that needle thing, Chet here moved right in taking over the bio phone and opening up all the instruments so Roy could keep his hands sterile. He was a proper surgical assistant."

The look that Johnny turned on Chet was hard to read, but Roy could see the wheels turning and wondered what the young man was thinking. "It was a team effort. We're just glad you're gonna be okay. Don't ever scare me like that again, Junior. My heart can't take it."

Johnny closed his eyes for a moment and leaned his head back against the pillows. Cap was about to suggest that they leave and let John get some rest when the young man opened his eyes and lifted his head.

"You know I don't get that."

Frowns of confusion graced all the the men's faces, but Roy is the one who asked, "What don't ya get, Johnny?"

"How did I end up with a collapsed lung? The x-ray was clear."

Chet spoke before Cap or Roy could tactfully answer the question. "Oh ya, well they mixed up your x-rays with someone else, then some big wig over here decided to try and blame Roy. You should have seen this inspector they sent over to the station..."

"That'll be all, Chester B!" Cap said in a severe tone, but it was too late.

"What? How can they blame Roy for a mix-up like that? What investigator?" Johnny looked at Roy with an expression that showed concern but was also clearly demanding an explanation.

Roy looked over at Chet wishing the man had never opened his mouth.

"What? He has a right to know, after all." Chet protested.

Johnny looked at each of his shift mates who all looked decidedly uncomfortable. "Okay, will someone please explain what happened? Chet's right, I have a right to know."

Roy began to tell Johnny everything that had transpired from the moment they found him passed out in the apparatus bay while the others chimed in with their own observations from time to time. When Roy got to the part about the 'private' interview with the hospital investigator; Mike, Chet, and Marco hung on his every word, not having been privy to that exchange. By the time Roy finished telling the tale John was a shade or two whiter and he looked exhausted.

"Holy cow! You're in the clear though now, right? I mean no one is still trying to blame you for doing something wrong?"

"Nah, everything's good. You look really tired. Maybe we should head out and let you get some rest." Roy said, to the nods of everyone else.

Johnny _did_ look tired enough to sleep for a week. "Hey thanks for stopping by guys, but yeah I think a nap would be pretty good about now."

Captain Stanley clapped his hands together in his customary way of calling order. "Okay then. You take it easy, John. If you need anything... like some decent food... give a call okay?"

"Thanks, Cap. I'll do that."

Roy hung back as the rest of the men filed out of the room.

"Roy, why do I get the feelin' that you left something out? I can almost hear the gears in that brain of your turning away. Did something else happen that you're not saying?"

Roy moved back over to Johnny's bedside and pulled up a chair, sitting down. "It's not like that, Johnny. It's just that..." Roy stopped and took a deep breath trying to figure out what it was that he needed to say. "I heard the tape of the call and even Dr. Brackett said that the thoracostomy was done correctly, but..."

Johnny frowned up at his partner, "But what?"

"You almost died because of that infection. I really am not qualified to preform a needle thoracostomy, and certainly not on the floor of the apparatus bay. Johnny, the bottom line is you got that infection because of that procedure."

"So what! Seriously, I'm still here because of what you did. I'll take the infection over a pine box any day." Johnny said, his voice low as fatigue began to sap his remaining strength.

"Yeah, I know. I've told myself that about a million times over the past two days."

Johnny closed his eyes but kept on speaking as though he were looking at his partner. "So then what is it? There is something else eating at you, Roy. I know you too well for you to pass it off as nothing, so spill it already will ya?"

Roy sighed , knowing that he really did need to say this. The feeling of culpability was not going away no matter how many times he told himself that it wasn't his fault. "I was with you all day. There were signs that something was wrong, Johnny, plenty of them. I don't care how crazy and busy the day was, it's my job to notice those symptoms. The dry cough, lack of appetite, your cold hands, the loss of concentration, then you admitting how lousy you felt and how slowly you were moving that night. I should have put it together, but instead I sat with the guys watching a movie. Damn it Johnny, I should have realized that you needed to go back to Rampart."

As he spoke Johnny cracked his eyes open and fixed Roy with what looked like an angry stare. "Man I don't believe you."

Roy looked up surprised at Johnny's tone.

"You think you are so perfect, Roy and it really bugs me sometimes. Tell me why you should have put everything together and known what was wrong when I didn't? Do you really think you are that much better of a paramedic than anyone else, that you should be able to divine what the problem is. I'm tellin' ya partner I think maybe you should have gone to med school instead of joining the fire department cause you sometimes have the ego of a doctor!"

Roy sat back stunned by Johnny's rebuke. Of all the things he might have expected Johnny to say that took him completely off guard. He just looked at Johnny not knowing what to say until the young man's lips curved up into his trademark crooked smile.

"You know what partner, I never thought about it like that." Roy replied as he realized that Johnny wasn't actually angry with him.

Johnny's face grew serious and his eyes intense. "None of this was your fault, Roy, so stop trying to take responsibility for it. Sometimes things just happen."

Johnny closed his eyes and laid his head back against the pillows as Roy digested what his partner had to say. After a moment Roy smiled himself and said "You really think I have the ego of a doctor?"

"Get outta here will ya! But bring me back some of Joanne's great cookin' later okay or this hospital food will kill me for sure."

Roy stood up and headed for the door as he said, "You got it partner."

**TBC **


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: **I have gotten quite a few requests to get off my duff and finish this story. Of course no one actually said, Get off your duff, already! but, well... "there it is". _(A cookie to anyone who can name that movie reference)_

**Checks & Balances**

**Chapter 15**

By the end of the second day out of the ICU Johnny had finally beaten the fever and was feeling a lot more like himself. He'd had a steady stream of short visits from his crew mates, but they were due back on shift and Johnny found himself bored and ready to start moving around.

When a nurse came into his room with his breakfast tray, Johnny's crooked grin dropped a little at the thought of eating hospital food. Much to his surprise, however, hidden under that metal lid was a bowl of some kind of corn meal mush, almost like the polenta that Marco had made on occasion at the station but this was sweetened with something delicious.

While the men of A shift came by, John had those visits to keep his mind off being cooped up in the hospital, but now he had no distractions to keep his mind occupied. The young man found, to his own astonishment, that he was inexplicably pleased when Dr. Morton stopped in on his off shift for a visit.

"You look ready to get out of here, Johnny." The young physician said by way of greeting when he stepped in through John's door.

"Truer words were never spoken. No offense to anyone here, but I'd just as soon be relaxing on my couch at home, although I must admit that the food hasn't been bad at all. As a matter of fact that corn meal stuff this morning was great. New menu in the cafeteria?"

"I don't think so, but maybe. I usually bring my own lunch when I'm working." Morton said, as he pulled up a chair to sit with John. "So Kelly tells me that you're gonna get that chest tube taken out tomorrow."

Johnny looked down at the tube snaking out from underneath his hospital robe. "None to soon to suit me. This thing is damned uncomfortable."

Johnny fixed Dr. Morton with a questioning stare. "You're not really the small talk type of guy, so tell me, what brings you up here for a visit on your day off?"

Dr. Morton tried to look offended. "Hey can't a guy come visit a friend who is sick without having a motive?"

Johnny didn't answer, he just raised an eyebrow waiting for an explanation. "Okay, so you got me. I wanted to ask you about your life on the reservation."

The shock that registered on Johnny's face was almost comical. "What? Are you kidding me or something?" Johnny asked, utterly perplexed.

"It's just that no one knew that you were bilingual and Roy said you never really talk about your childhood growing up on the reservation. I was wondering about that, is all. Did you have a difficult childhood?"

Shock turned to astonishment. "Bilingual? What are you talking about? Why do you think I speek another language?"

"Because you did, while you were delirious with fever. One of the ICU nurses thought that you had some strange form of dysphasia. She even recorded a bit of it. It was Dr. Brackett who realized that you were speaking a native language instead of a bunch of nonsense syllables."

"Huh? I don't speak a native language, not well anyway. My grandparents spoke Ojibwe but I never really learned it fluently, much to my mother's dismay. Do you have any idea what I said?"

Dr. Morton pulled out a sheet a paper from his jacket pocket. "Actually I do. I have a friend who is fluent in several native tongues and he translated what you said, here." Dr. Morton handed the sheet to Johnny who looked it over his eyes growing wider as he read.

"Well what do you know about that? I guess some of it sunk in despite not paying attention in school." Johnny handed the page back before he gingerly crossed his arms over his chest. "So why do you think I had a rough childhood?"

Anyone else may have looked uncomfortable, but Dr. Morton understood having cultural differences to the people around him. "Well, you never really talk about your past, so I just thought that maybe you had it rough as a kid."

Johnny cocked his head to the side for a moment in thought, then looked back at his visitor. "You know that really bugs me. You sound just like the anthros who would come out to the rez every summer and try to analyze why we were poor and how that effected our cultural practices. Yeah we were poor, but so are a lot of people. How would you feel if a bunch of anthropologists came to your neighborhood growing up to study you, your family and friends to try and understand why you do the things that you do. It's intrusive and degrading, like we were some kind of lab rats for them to study."

Johnny was working up to a rant of epic proportions.

"Why is it that people think that just because I don't talk about my first bike ride, or my first kiss, or my best friend growing up; that I had some sort of tragic childhood? Seriously? I had a perfectly normal childhood. It's true my folks died when I was young, but I was well cared for by my grandparents until they passed of old age. By then I was seventeen and I eventually came out here to stay with my aunt and to get into the fire academy. Honestly, my childhood was pretty much like anyone else's. I don't talk about it because... well I guess, because I have other things to talk about."

Dr. Morton _did_ look a little uncomfortable by the time Johnny finished. "Hey, I'm sorry, it's really none of my business and I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions. It had to have been tough though, loosing your parents when you were young. I know that if my folks had died I would've a real hard time getting over that."

Johnny just shook his head. "I was seven when my parents died, and it was the hardest thing I'd ever had to deal with. My grandparents and the rest of the tribe closed ranks, so-to-speak, and took me through the rituals. You see, at that age I was taught the normal things anyone has to learn, but we were all taught about the Chippewa's beliefs that all life had a rhythm. Things can change quickly and dramatically, but that is a normal part of life. Loosing my parents was terrible and I still miss them when I think about it, but you gotta remember that the Chippewa views on life and death are not the same as everyone else. My mother was full blood Chippewa and my father was a white man who completely embraced the Chippewa culture and belief system. Heck he was more indian that me in that respect. They believed in life being like a cycle with a beginning and an end and that was all a part of the natural order of things. My grandfather talked a lot about those beliefs and the lessons from when I was a kid helped me come to terms with their deaths.

"So I guess outside of that experience I had a pretty decent childhood. What made you curious about wether or not I had it rough as a kid? Did you have it rough growing up?"

Dr. Morton looked thoughtfully at John for a moment before answering. "It's 1974 and I am a black doctor. That's a long way to come from a kid growing up in the ghetto, but yeah, life and society sure didn't make it easier to get somewhere with my life. I've seen places where even the concept equal rights is still a myth."

Johnny nodded his head knowingly. "I know what you are talking about. I've seen some stuff like that in my life time too. Not so much when I got out here to LA. Don't get me wrong doc, back in Montana most people are pretty decent, but there is still a strong presence of bigotry in the several of the local ranchers, particularly around the reservation lands. When ever my friends and I went into town we would invariably run into some of the kids from the ranches and that's when trouble started. The white kids never got blamed for the fights either, so after awhile we just decided to avoid them when we could."

While they were talking Johnny's lunch tray arrived and nestled under the metal lid were three quesadillas each with a different filling and lightly toasted on the outside.

Dr. Morton looked at the meal also smelling the delicious aroma and smiled appreciatively. "I may stop bringing my own lunch if this is what you can get from the cafeteria. Look Johnny, I have to get going and you need to eat your lunch, but I just wanna say, I'm really glad your doing ok. Good luck tomorrow."

"Thanks, Doc, and sorry I got bent at ya." Johnny aid, as Dr. Morton stood up and moved the chair back from the bedside.

"It's ok, Johnny. I get touchy about things like that too, if I'm being honest. Take it easy, pal."

* * *

><p>Johnny spoke with Dr. Brackett late that afternoon asking if the chest tube could come out that day rather than waiting for the following day, but the doctor pointedly refused to allow it. After the trouble they'd stabilizing Johnny and fighting off the infection, there was no way Dr. Brackett would do anything that might set Johnny back at all. He did, however, increase the number of breathing evaluations and breathing exercises that Johnny was required to complete before the tube's removal.<p>

Johnny woke slowly the next morning, seeming unusually tired. He was hesitant to say anything about that for fear that Dr. Brackett would decide not to take the chest tube out. When the physician entered Johnny's room followed by a nurse with a rolling instrument tray Johnny did his best to look wide awake and energetic.

"You seem perky this morning. I figured you might be a bit sleepy after the mild sedative I ordered last night."

Johnny's eyes opened wide. "You gave me a sedative last night? Why?"

A small smirk turned up the corner of the doctor's mouth. "Because I know you well enough by now to know that without it you wouldn't have gotten a wink of sleep last night. I wanted you fresh and rested for today. Assuming everything goes well today and we can get you up and moving around without a re-collapse, we may be able to get you out of the hospital by tomorrow."

"You think my lung could collapse again?" John asked, not without a small note of concern.

"Now don't go getting all worked up again, Johnny. It is rare, but possible. If there is going to be any trouble it should happen in the first 24 hours. That's why we like to do tube removals in the morning so we get a full day to observe you."

"Yeah ok, Doc, but I'm not planning on climbing up any ladders for a few days."

"Of that I am sure, because you are on a mandatory two week sick leave, at which time you will need to come back in to get cleared for duty."

"Then why are you worried about the lung collapsing again?" Johnny wanted to know. He rarely got detailed information on his patients after their initial admittance to the ER and was now in territory he didn't have any real practical experience with.

"Spontaneous collapse can happen after an incident like this especially for young men with your physique."

That earned Dr. Brackett a utterly confused stare from the young paramedic. "What is that supposed to mean 'my physique'?"

Dr. Bracket had just snapped on his sterile gloves as the nurse removed Johnny's gown and began to prep the site of the tube insertion with betadine. "Young tall slender men have a higher incidence of spontaneous lung collapse than other body types, and you fit that bill, my friend."

TBC

A/N: The tube removal isn't very dramatic so I thought I'd skip that bit.


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: **This note is addressed to the moronic troll skulking around this story. Since you do not have the courage or the integrity to put your name on your comments they will be removed or moderated. And the next time you decide to accuse someone of plagiarism, you should take the very simple step of checking the publication date on the stories in question. You will find that my work pre-dates whatever other story you think I stole from. "Just saying"

**A/N-2**: The movie reference in my last author's note is from Amadeus.

Alice I

**Checks & Balances**

**Chapter 16**

To say that Johnny was relieved after the chest tube came out would have been quite an understatement. He was more sore and surprisingly weaker than he had thought he would be after being in the hospital for only four days however, and Dr. Brackett admonished him not to be impatient with his recovery.

As they walked slowly down the corridor, with a nurse following behind pushing a wheel chair in case Johnny needed to sit, the young man looked over at the doctor. "So what _did_ happen, Doc? How did radiology manage to mix up the x-rays?"

The question seemed to make Doctor Brackett somewhat uncomfortable, which seemed very strange to Johnny. "Honestly, Johnny, I have no idea how the mix up happened."

"I can answer that for you." A deep voice called from ahead of them. The elevator door had just opened and one of the first passengers off was the hospital administrator Nathan O'Brien. He stepped forward and shook Johnny's hand. "You must be paramedic John Gage."

Johnny took the proffered hand, looking between Dr. Brackett and the man in front of him. "Uh, hello."

"My name is Nathan O'Brien. I'm the hospital administrator."

As the man spoke Dr. Brackett noticed that Johnny was leaning more heavily on his IV pole and motioned for the nurse to bring the chair forward. As Johnny sat down Mr. O'Brien continued. "Let me first apologize on behalf of Rampart for the problems you experienced. If you would let me..." and the man moved around to the back of the chair to take over pushing it. "I'd like to take you down to radiology so I can show you exactly what happened and what we are doing to ensure that the same mistake will never happen again."

"Lead the way then." Johnny said, as he pulled his IV pole over to roll forward between the feet of the wheel chair. As they moved into the elevator the enigmatic administrator continued. "I went down to the radiology department myself and asked the technologists there to walk me through the process of taking an x-ray of a patient and what happens to the pictures from the start to finish. It took some detective work, but we finally figured out how the mix up occurred."

The elevator dinged and the hospital administrator wheeling a patient along in a wheelchair with the head of the ER trailing behind was a sight to see when they all exited on the ground floor at the far end of the ER hallway.

"I went down there myself" Dr. Brackett confessed, "But for the life of me, I couldn't figure it out so I am very curious to know what you found, Nathan."

The trio entered the Radiology department from a back entrance near the Special Procedures rooms. They took a short trip down the interior hallway on one side of the department, past huge file racks for X-Ray film folders with what looked to Johnny like some odd cryptic numbering system. All the film jackets had two brightly colored green stickers that were clearly meant to indicate the month and year, because the green stickers were covering a gold and blue sticker which covered several other layers of numbers all also in different colors. Then there were three black letters down the side and under that what looked like four more random numbers.

As O'Brien moved through the department he pointed out the different imaging areas within radiology. As they drew closer to the end of the hall there was a large area to the left with a counter on either side and above each counter there were two large banks of viewing light boxes stacked together. There were several films up with folders placed on the counters underneath each separate study. O'Brien stopped the wheelchair and said, "This is the ER control area. This is where all of the films that are done for, or requested by, the ER are taken and developed. We have two dedicated ER diagnostic rooms." He pointed to the open doors on either side of the far end of the work area. Johnny couldn't see much of the room on the left, but the room on the right he could see into a bit and recognized the x-ray table.

"This room," O'Brien indicated a closed door that was directly opposite the hallway "is the darkroom." We have a full time darkroom tech who runs films from the ER rooms as well as overflow from our GI rooms. That is the control area just behind us to the right. As it turned out the error happened very innocently. The department was slammed the day you had your x-ray Mr. Gage..."

"Please call me Johnny."

"All right, Johnny. Your films were taken in room 13 there on the right. The gentleman your study was mixed up with had his films done in room 12 on the left. When the technologist finished your study she put the cassettes on the counter outside her room with a '_flash card_' like this." he said, holding up a small card with a name, date of birth, and other pertinent information on it.

"This card is used by the darkroom tech to put the patient name and information right onto the image. He has a device that is used in the dark room to do this. Only completed studies with all the film cassettes and flash card are set on the counters. In your case, Johnny, one of our house keeping staff had to come down to clean up a spill that occurred here."

As O'Brien said this one of the techs reached over and removed a cup of coffee that was sitting on one of the counters and slunk away to one of the x-ray rooms.

"At some point the identification cards for your films and that of the other patient fell from the counters and landed on the floor. The house keeper tried to get someone's attention but every tech was in the middle of a patient exam and the darkroom tech was busy running films." O'Brien pointed to a large machine that seemed to come right out of the back wall.

It was quite noisy now that Johnny's attention was directed to it. Just at that moment a film dropped out of the machine into a catch bin. It was quickly scooped up by a tech and tossed up on one of the light boards over the appropriate folder.

"The cards had somehow landed on the floor directly opposite to the counter they fell from. Not knowing what else to do, Raul, the housekeeper, put the cards back onto the counter he found them by."

Johnny whistled. "Jeese, so how did you figure this out?"

"Well I spoke with every person who was working that afternoon and finally someone mentioned calling housekeeping about a spill in control. I spoke with the housekeeper who responded to the request and he told me what had happened. He feels absolutely terrible about all of this and his wife has been making special meals for you ever since they realized what had happened."

The look of surprise on Johnny's face was comical. His expression seemed to toggle between blushing with pleasure and mild disappointment. "Man, and I though the cafeteria menu had suddenly gotten better." Johnny looked up at the administrator of the hospital and seemed to suddenly realize what he had just said, "Uh, um, sorry."

O'Brien couldn't help laughing as Johnny stammered. "No need to worry, Johnny. I've eaten the hospital food myself and completely understand. What I wanted to show you was what we plan to do to avoid any other incident like this occurring."

He pointed to an odd looking contraption that was sitting underneath the counter. It looked rather like a large metal box attached to a base plate and frame with some sort of black rubber-like accordion material attached to the frame that circled the center of the box.

This is called a pass box. What we are going to do is cut a hole in the wall between each of the x-ray rooms and their shared dark room. The pass box is installed and sealed tightly so that there is no leakage of light into the darkroom."

He reached under the counter and turned the pass box so that both Johnny and Dr. Brackett could see the front of the box. There were two doors with a toggle handle between them. One door was labeled 'EXPOSED' the other 'CLEAN'.

"There is another identical set of doors on the other side. The way this works is the films are taken in the x-ray room and the technologist puts the films into the pass box labeled exposed. The darkroom tech can then open the box on the other side from inside the darkroom and run the films from there. Now until we get the new flasher machines the tech will put the patient identification card in the pass box with their films. Now that is not to say that in the type of safety lighting used in the dark room that a card mix up won't happen. We will soon we will have a solution for that as well."

O'Brien picked up an x-ray cassette from a cart of them near the right side of the control area. He held the cassette up and showed it to them. There was a small black sliding door inch tall and about 3 inches wide at the top left corner of the cassette. This window will open only when the cassette is put into something called a flasher. It opens the slide door and shines a light onto the flash card which fits into the top of the machine and imprints the information on the identification card right onto the film. It is the same principal as what is used in the dark room, but this will allow the technologist to flash the patient name onto the film at the time the exam is done so it would then be absolutely impossible to mix up the wrong ident card with the wrong films. The pass boxes are an added measure of protection against inadvertent mix ups, and it will also increase the efficiency of the darkroom. From my perspective this is a win, win."

Dr. Brackett looked rather impressed by the whole thing. Johnny shook his head slowly then said, "Wow. You are going to have to spend some bucks on your renovations huh?"

"Undoubtedly, especially considering that the walls are lead lined and will make cutting a hole between room more of a challenge. Still, I believe that it's worth it. Patient safety should be our first consideration."

"But a more efficient darkroom certainly can't hurt anyone's bottom line." Dr. Brackett added.

* * *

><p>By the time Johnny got back to his room, he wanted to take a nap, but he had breathing exercises to do with the respiratory therapist first. He couldn't believe how much - just breathing - could completely wipe him out.<p>

Roy was able to stop by for a quick visit after a run shortly before the dinner trays were due to arrive. "How ya feelin', Junior?"

"Pretty good. Doc says as long as I have a good night I can go home tomorrow."

Though he was visibly exhausted, the grin on the young man's face showed his enthusiasm at the prospect of leaving the hospital.

"That great! I'll swing by after I get off shift in the morning and bring you home."

Johnny sat up a little straighter in bed. "Actually can you take me back to the station? I will need to get my car."

"Already taken care of, Pally. Chet made a run out to your apartment with Mike following in Big Red."

The look on Johnny's face was priceless. "Oh, man, that should get old lady Gower griping again. I'm sure I'll hear all about how it is never a good idea to have a big fire truck roll up into the complex, unless of course, there's a fire."

Roy was genuinely shocked. "You have a neighbor who doesn't like fire trucks?"

Johnny thought about that for a second then said easily, "Nah, it isn't fire trucks, it's anything and everything that doesn't fit into her view of how things should be. She went absolutely nuts on the garbage collector when the schedule changed and they began to pick up the garbage in the morning instead of the afternoon. They left little notes on all the mailboxes, which she also complained about, saying that it is a federal offense to tamper with the mail."

"How is leaving notes on mail boxes tampering with the mail?"

Johnny began to look more and more alert as he spoke, shaking the heavy feeling of fatigue with talk of home. "Well according to Mrs. Gower, only a federal mail employee can put any kind of mail in the box, and apparently, according to her, that includes notifications attached to the outside of them. Honestly, I think she is happiest when she is complaining about someone or something."

"Well that should make for a wonderful home coming. You wanna stay with us?"

Johnny thought about it for a moment. He knew that Roy had spent more time sitting in a chair worried about him than anyone. The last thing John wanted was for Roy or Joann to fuss over him any more. "Thanks for the offer, but I really would like to sleep in my own bed. Say I met the hospital administrator this afternoon."

Roy stepped over an sat down in the chair next to Johnny's bed. "Nathan O'Brien. What did you think of him?"

"I have to admit, for a suit, he is all right. He figured out how the mix up with the x-rays happened. Simple human error, actually. The identification cards fell on the floor and they got picked up and put back on the wrong films. So get this, he didn't go looking for someone to fire. After what you got put through I'm kind of surprised. Instead he ordered some pretty fancy equipment that will take all the guess work out and keep this from happening again. It is gonna cost the hospital some money too. They will be punching holes in the walls from two x-ray rooms into the dark room."

Roy whistled. "Wow, I gotta say I'm a bit surprised as well. I liked Mr. O'Brien when I met him, so I guess it shouldn't come as a surprise that his goal is to fix the problem rather than looking for someone to blame. I think Rampart is lucky to have him."

Just then there was a knock on the door and a tall hispanic man stepped into the room, followed by a very tiny woman. She was also hispanic, but she couldn't have been any taller than four foot eight or nine, and she was holding a foil covered dish in her hands. "Excuse me, senior. My name is Raul Oquendo. This is my wife, Alejandra. Senior, Gage, I have come to apologize. I now understand that because I placed your name card on the wrong table, you became very ill and could have died. We have both prayed for you since we found out what happened."

The young woman stepped forward and put the dish down on the rolling table next to the bed. "I asked a fireman named Marco what food you like so I could make some food that maybe is a little better than food from the cafeteria."

"I'll say. Thank you very much, the food was fantastic, but you didn't have to do that." Johnny looked up at Raul. "You know what? Accidents happen. Heck, it's accidents that my partner and I deal with all day long."

"Alejandra made for you a special dinner." Raul stepped back a little and let his wife take the tin foil wrap off the top of the dish. Inside were three packages, or what looked like little pacakages made from tortillas. "These are Chimichangas. Each one different: beef, chicken, and pork. The tortillas are loaded with meat, vegetables, and salsa ranchera."

Johnny sniffed the meal appreciatively. "Wow, Mrs. Oquendo, these smell terrific. I'm going to be discharged tomorrow, but I'll make sure your dish gets cleaned and left with the nurses."

The HT in Roy's hand chirruped to life, with LA dispatch requesting squad 51 to respond. "That's my Q, Junior. I'll see you tomorrow. It was nice to meet you Mr. and Mrs. Oquendo." Roy shook hands with Raul before he stepped to the door speaking to the dispatcher as he left the room.

The Oquendo's only stayed for a few more minutes and as much as Johnny enjoyed the food and was very glad to have an opportunity to thank the cook, he was ready to sleep for the rest of the night and was glad for some peace and quiet.

As he lay there quietly in the darkened room, Johnny thought about all of the things that happened and how everything in the end turned out. There were procedures and protocols in place both at Rampart and within the fire department to prevent bad things from happening, but sometimes they just happened anyway, sometimes people just fall through the cracks like Johnny did. Even though Johnny had serious consequences from a simple rescue, he felt good. The fire department had shown complete support for their men, the doctors handled the mistake with speed and efficiency, the hospital administrator fixed the problem instead of just firing someone. All in all even though a system of checks and balances isn't always foolproof, the LA County fire department and Rampart General Hospital came pretty damned close. With those thoughts running through his head, Johnny Gage drifted off to sleep.

The End

**Final A/N:** I am aware that the term hospitalist was not around in the 70s, but I don't know what the main doctor in the hospital would have been called back then. That is the reason I included an explanation of what a hospitalist is.  
>I have always welcomed constructive comments on any of my stories, but if you are just going to nit-pick a story that is clearly extremely well researched, saying that the story is <em>"just to unbelievable at points that it makes it hard to read..."<em> and then point out only one item (the hospitslist) as an example of how poorly written the story is, may I recommend you find another way to occupy your time.  
>The only reason I did not delete this unsigned review is because it <em>is<em> actually a comment about the story, however unsupported it may be.


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